The life of Eliza Baylies Wheaton : a chapter in the history of the higher education of women

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THE LIFE OF
ELIZA BAYLIES WHEATON

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THE LIFE OF
ELIZA BAYLIES WHEATON

A CHAPTER IN THE HISTORY OF THE
HIGHER EDUCATION OF WOMEN

PREPARED FOR THE ALUMNA
OF WHEATON SEMINARY BY

HARRIET E. PAINE

CAMBRIDGE

piinteD at tE^lje KitjersiDe ^ttss

1907

ADVISORY COMMITTEE

JULIA OSGOOD

JEANNIE WOODBURY LINCOLN

FRANCES VOSE EMERSON

EMMA BARSTOW BATES

ANNA SPEAR STEBBINS

CLARA M. PIKE

COPYRIGHT 1907 BY THE ALUMN^B ASSOCIATION OF WHEATON SEMINA'iY

PREFACE

The love of the Alumnae of Wheaton Seminary
for their dear old friend has led to the preparation
of this "Life of Mrs. Wheaton." In presenting it to
the public, it is felt that there is need to invoke all
the gentleness of the gentle reader, if v^e v^ould
hope that its imperfections may be forgiven.

In a certain sense, it is a family affair, written by
and for the "thousand daughters" of Mrs. Whea-
ton. It has, therefore, seemed admissible to use
much material that to a reader outside the family
might seem redundant, or uninteresting. Many
parts of the book are not unlike a talk on family
matters by members of the family.

For instance, this has seemed a fitting place to
pay tribute to some of the really great teachers of
Wheaton Seminary, v^ho were all Mrs. Wheaton's
intimate friends. Some of the greatest of these
passed on so long ago that we have no record of
them. Of some of the very greatest only a few
words have been allowed; for it is felt that it would
be out of place to say much of those still living.

But dearly as Mrs. Wheaton loved the Seminary,
her deepest life centred in her own home, and,
little as the schoolgirls understood it, her large,

[V]

loving nature was actively occupied during the
greater part of her life with interests quite outside
of the Seminary. She loved the town she lived in
and worked for. Still more, she loved her home and
her husband, and there are few records of families
in which the brothers and sisters, uncles and aunts,
nephews and nieces, have been so dear to each
other as in hers. Yet, almost all who were nearest
and dearest to Mrs. Wheaton passed out of this
life long before her, and, of the few who remain,
most are too old and feeble to tell us her story.
It is to her much-loved nephew and nieces, and
especially to Mrs. John Jay Smith (Mary A.
Chapin, of the Class of 1873), to whom Mrs.
Wheaton willed her private papers, that we are
indebted for most of the material that shows us how
rich and beautiful was the part of her life which
we, the Alumnae, did not know. While, therefore,
we are grateful to each of the many friends who
have contributed to our book, our heartiest thanks
are due to Mrs. Smith, who, though suffering from
illness and burdened with many cares, has patiently
sifted the large mass of her aunt's papers, and
generously shared the treasure with us.

Harriet E. Paine,
For the AlumnjG Committee.

Groveland, June 8, 1907.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

I. ANCESTRY i

II. CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH 13

III. THE WHEATON HOME 25

IV. EARLY LIFE IN NORTON 47

V. THE FOUNDING OF WHEATON SEMI-
NARY 64

VL THE DIARIES 96

Vn. A SUMMER IN EUROPE 118

VIIL WIDOWHOOD 129

IX. WHEATON SEMINARY UNDER MRS.

METCALF AND MISS STANTON . . 146

X. TOWN AFFAIRS 170

XL THE JUBILEE OF WHEATON SEMINARY 185

XII. ACTIVITIES OF LATER LIFE . . . . 188

XIII. MISS STANTON'S REMINISCENCES . . 209

XIV. A CRISIS 221

XV. EXTREME AGE 236

XVI. A LEAF FROM THE EXPERIENCE OF A

SEMINARY TRUSTEE 258

XVIL AT EVENING TIME THERE SHALL BE

LIGHT 270

XVm. MEMORIAL MEETING OF THE NEW

ENGLAND WHEATON CLUB .... 280

ILLUSTRATIONS

EARLY PORTRAIT OF MRS. WHEATON (Photo-
gravure) Frontispiece

From the painting by Mrs. Eunice Makepeace Toivle

THE BAYLIES HOMESTEAD 16

THE WHEATON MANSION 26

MRS. WHEATON AT THE AGE OF SEVENTY-
EIGHT . . 190

From a Photograph
MRS. WHEATON IN HER NINETY-FIFTH YEAR 250
From the painting by John W. Alexander

THE LIFE OF
ELIZA BAYLIES WHEATON

CHAPTER I
ANCESTRY

BY MARY CHAPIN SMITH

[Note by the Editor. This chapter and the two following
formed part of a long paper written by Mrs. Smith, the daughter
of Mrs. Wheaton's brother Adolphus. It has been necessary
to divide this paper, in order that it might better harmonize
with the many other papers contributed for this book. Its con-
cluding sentence, however, so well expresses the relation be-
tween Mrs. Smith and her aunt, that we believe the value of
what she has to say will be better appreciated if we quote it
here.

"I who have read her heart of love in a half-century of per-
sonal records, to whom at the final parting she said with tears,
'It is like the parting of mother and daughter,' now offer to her
this tribute with tenderness and reverence, as one would lay
flowers about the dead."]

Eliza Baylies Chapin was born on "Northbridge
Hill," in Northbridge, Massachusetts, Septem-
ber 27, 1809. Ancestral traits showed forth so
plainly and blossomed so generously in her varied
character, that from the large mass of genealogical
matter at my disposal, I shall select a few of the
most salient points.

On her mother's side there was a Quaker strain
which ran back to "Thomas Bayhes, the son of

[ I]

Nicholas, of the parish of Alvechurch, Worcester
County, England, who was married to Esther
Sergeant June 5, 1706. They were both Quakers,
and were married in a public meeting of said
Quakers, where forty-eight signed their names as
witnesses to the solemnizing of said marriage. They
came to Boston from England in June, 1737, with
their sons Nicholas and Thomas and four daugh-
ters, two married daughters remaining in London."
(From family records.)

After living for a short time in Cumberland,
Rhode Island, Thomas and his son Nicholas
"leased the industrial establishment on the Mum-
ford River, where Whitinsville is now located, for
twenty-one years at thirty-four pounds a year. . . .
They produced or dealt in 'pigg' and *barr' iron,
nails, 'ankonys,' * and other iron merchandise,
owned cattle and much other property, as their
journal and ledger, beautifully kept, now show; and
had besides the water power, developed for a saw-
mill a dozen years before their time and forty-five
years before Northbridge existed as a town, an
* ore-yard' and 'refinery.' Their establishment was
widely known as the Baylies Refinery or Finery,
and is so named in the location of roads of the time

^ " An cony — a piece of half-wrought iron in the shape of
a bar in the middle, but rude and unwrought at the ends."
(From a very old dictionary.)

[2]

on the county records. The older son, Thomas,
Jr., did not appear in this undertaking, but located
at Taunton, Mass.," where his brother Nicholas
finally removed and lived for over forty years.
(From a paper read before the Mendon Historical
Society in Uxbridge Town Hall, Oct. 15, 1904, by
Gustavus Williams, Esq., of Milford.)

This Nicholas Baylies, the great-grandfather of
Eliza, "was a noted patriot at the time of the Revo-
lution. His Quaker ancestry was probably respon-
sible in part for his not participating actively in the
struggle, but he made up for lack of personal ser-
vice in large measure by his generosity in financial
matters and by the value of his judgment and fore-
sight as a councilor and adviser." Among our
Baylies family records, I have a copy of a love letter
which he wrote to Elizabeth Park of Newton, who
afterwards became his wife (she evidently could not
withstand such ardent pleading), which shows him
to have been very susceptible to the tender passion
and romantic in the extreme. This letter, in an
elegant handwriting, begins: —

Dear Creature, — I hope by the powers divine
this little piece of writing will find you in good
health, and the same mind still affected towards
me, though now absent, as when I parted with you,
my dearest Love. The reason of the Bearer's com-

[3]

ing down was I could no longer stay with Patience
till I heard from you. ... I throw myself at your
lovely feet with all low submission, to crave one favor
from my love. It is not I alone, but all of us implore
your pity on us. Oh the Gods! I hope will incline
your heart to what I desire, that is you will favor us
with your company next week, for a horse will be
down Monday or Tuesday without fail and myself.
So if you my love deny me this request you may as
well sign the death Warrent to him that loves you so
true. My only Life and Happiness, it will be but a
week sooner than our appointment which is nothing.
Oh, the Gods themselves can't express the grief and
anguish I endure in our separation, and if your
heart was as hard as the flinty rock, I can't but
implore your mercy, and yourself can't denie my
desire. I shall be the Unhappiest of mortals if my
fair one denies me an answer. I desire and Beg that
my Dear will write me all the news she can. It is
impossible for any earthly Mortal to bear the Pain
I feel in my Lovely Creature's absence. Oh you
must be hard and unpitiful if you don't take the
way to make me Happy in your Company, when
your absence will be my undoing and your presence
the means of preserving my Life.

Thus and much more, he who signs himself,
Your Constant though Disconsolate lover,

Nicholas Baylies.

[4]

" The following story is told of this Nicholas at
the time of his carrying on his successful iron works
at Dighton. As was the custom of the time, his
workmen sat at the lower end of his table. One day,
some gentlemen from Boston were dining with him
and asked with astonishment why he had such men
at his table. His reply was something like this: 'I
prefer to have them at my table, for it is by these
rough hands that I am able to live as I do.'" (From
S. A. Chapin.)

"He represented the town of Uxbridge in the
General Court as early as 1758. After he removed
to Taunton, he represented that town in the same
body for the poHtical years 1781-82 and 1786-87.
He was well known in his day as one of the ablest
politicians in Massachusetts, and though English
born, was a most efficient supporter of America
against British encroachments and through the
Revolutionary struggle." (New England Genealog-
ical Register for January, 1866.)

The son of this Nicholas was Nicholas the third,
the much-married man, the grandfather of the
little Eliza; the solemn succession of his marriages
mounting up to the number four, the last vdfe
surviving him many years, and living in the old
homestead. That he was no grim Bluebeard is
evidenced by the apparent willingness of succes-
sion as well as by the testimony of existing da-

[5]

guerreotypes, which were copies of a painted por-
trait hanging for many years in his residence on
Baylies Hill. These pictures might easily foster the
delusion that you were looking upon the face of
some ancient Flemish worthy. A grand type of
wholesome old age is here depicted: a strong, mas-
sive head, square, but tapering to a noble oval in
the chin, a wide forehead, a large and shapely
nose, a kind, frank outlook from the earnest eyes,
and a mouth generous, full of character, yet with
a fine delicacy of sculpture, about which plays an
elusive smile most friendly and reassuring. The
loose folds of the soft white neckcloth and the heavy
draperies of the cloak that melt into the shadow,
complete the portrait. This fine old fellow. Deacon
Nicholas Baylies, "was evidently one of the most
worthy and esteemed of the prominent citizens of
Uxbridge, whether viewed in his relations to the
church or in his business transactions. His accounts
show that he was an intelligent, careful manager,
recording carefully his deaHngs and settHng most
scrupulously with his white and negro employees,
his neighbors, his father, his brothers, and indeed
with his children." He was called upon to settle the
large estate of a neighbor and to act as arbiter in a
controversy between two citizens of Uxbridge. His
religious life was that rare development where the
inner spirit keeps pace with and even goes beyond

[6]

the outward observance. A testimony to the latter
is a remembrance of him, "after he was ninety, tot-
tering to his deacon's seat in the old Uxbridge
meeting-house three miles from his home, even in
inclement weather, thus showing his zeal to be in
the place of worship." (From Mr. WiUiams's
paper.)

Through life, perhaps more than any other, this
good grandfather, this man who looked far down
the future and stormed the Father's throne with
earnest prayers for all his descendants, was Mrs.
Wheaton's ideal of the spiritual possibilities of the
human soul; and it is certain that his early influ-
ence must have had a far-reaching effect upon the
best part of her own religious life. I truly believe
that no praise would ever have been more sweet to
her than the assurance, which might well have been
given, that all her life long she had faithfully fol-
lowed in the footsteps of this most beloved grand-
father. In fact, that his grandchildren almost wor-
shipped his memory is the word of mouth that
came to me through many years from a number of
them, and still his great-grandchildren are glad to
do him reverence,^

^ In a collateral line was Hodijah Baylies, a great-uncle of
Eliza, a man of great beauty of face and figure and of a winning
personality. He was aide-de-camp of General Benjamin
Lincoln of Hingham, and also aide and personal friend of
George Washington, was with him at the surrender of Corn-

[7]

The stern tenets of the ancient theology were
very hard for many sensitive souls. Such was his
daughter Abigail, the mother of EHza. Her re-
ligious life was at times darkened by personal
fears, which in the last days happily gave way to
a more sustained assurance; those last days, at-
tended by the two devoted daughters, that passed
away so peacefully upon a lofty Uxb ridge hilltop,
with all the glory of orchard and river, sunrise
and sunset, daily before her in the home of her
daughter, Mary Judson. Here Eliza often came
to care for her and soothe her with all the love
and tenderness that a daughter could give, and
here she died, having survived her husband less
than three years.

That in her youth she possessed the notable
skill of the early times is attested by the beautiful
linen in existence, so greatly prized by her descend-
ants, which is her handiwork, spun and woven
by herself; some of it heavy, some fine and hemmed
with dainty old-time stitches, and some in a very

wallis and afterwards lived with him at Mt. Vernon until he
came North and married Elizabeth, the daughter of General
Lincoln. An uncle, Hon. Nicholas Baylies, was judge of the
Supreme Court of Vermont and also held other offices. He
was a jurist of prominence and the author of several legal works.
Another uncle, Dr. Gustavus Baylies, attained great promi-
nence in his profession. His daughters, Hannah, Betsy, and
Mary, were cousins with whom Eliza kept up a life-long in-
timacy.

[8]

beautiful ornamental weave, all marked with her
initials, A. B., done in silk in the dehcate cross-
stitch fashion of the sampler days.

She was married in her father's home to Henry
Chapin of Uxbridge, in November, 1793. He was
born in Mendon, the son of Gershom Chapin of
that place, who afterwards settled in Uxbridge.
Of what I may have been told about him I can
remember but little, it is all in a mist, — save that
his children spoke of him with much affection and
respect, and always referred to him as a "good
man," a "godly man." He and his wife Abigail
lived for a long time in and near Northbridge,
where they raised a large family. Out of ten chil-
dren, the last two died in infancy. The others were
as follows: Henry Chapin, Jr., born in November,
1794, Adolphus, Judson, Nicholas Baylies, Mary,
George, Eliza Baylies, born in 1809, Samuel Aus-
tin, born in 1 8 1 1 . George ran away to sea, and was
never seen again nor even heard from but once,
through a wandering sailor, many, many years
after. I remember, as a tiny girl, my wonder at the
thrill of excitement that ran through both fami-
lies, my father's and Aunt Mary's, because news
had come to them of Uncle George; it was Hke
hearing a voice from the dead, but the voice was
never heard again.

After a time the parents, Henry and Abigail,

[9]

and their sons, Henry, Jr., Adolphus, Nicholas,
and Austin, settled in White Pigeon, Michigan.
In this region they bought large tracts of public
lands, and engaged in farming and mercantile
business, building, etc.; here Adolphus and Austin,
as first and second lieutenants of the militia under
Major-General Williams, took an active part in
the Black Hawk War; here some of them remained
a number of years, and here at last the father and
his sons, Henry, Jr., and Nicholas, died within a
few years of each other, the mother finding a home
with her daughter Mary in Uxbridge.

From the father's side Mrs. Wheaton inherited
a sturdy strain, iron in the blood. The Chapin
descent is traced back through a cloud of deacons
and " pillars " to Deacon Samuel Chapin, who came
over from England, landing at Boston, and was one
of the first settlers of Springfield, Massachusetts;
the man whom Saint-Gaudens took for the proto-
type of his statue of "The Puritan." He is well
known as one of the most prominent men in the
early history of Springfield. He was appointed
by the General Court of the Massachusetts Bay
Colony to govern Springfield, and he took part in
King PhiHp's War. Among his descendants were
Henry Ward Beecher and Dr. Edwin H. Chapin,
the Universalist preacher so noted for his elo-
quence.

[ 10]

After King Philip's War, Josiah, the eldest son
of Samuel, removed to Mendon. He was captain
and also deputy for many years. He had re-
ceived from his father a large government grant of
property included in the present sites of Mendon
and Milford. Says Ballou, in his " History of Mil-
ford:" "He was honored with the highest muni-
cipal and civil positions; and even after he had
reached his octogenarian years, when he was sup-
posed to excuse himself from active executive
duties, his fellow citizens still insisted, by vote,
that their less experienced officials should sit at
the patriarch's feet for instructions how to dis-
charge their duties." His eldest daughter, Mary
Chapin, married Joseph Adams of Braintree, and
their grandson was John Adams, second President
of the United States. Josiah's eldest son, Seth, —
better known as Captain Seth, of Milford, — "was
welcomed to the front rank of official dignity, and
finally closed a life of seventy-eight years with
very similar manifestations of public confidence
and respect to those enjoyed by his honored father."
(Ballou.) Captain Seth was captain of the Mas-
sachusetts Colonial forces at Mendon in 1714,
and was repeatedly after that Representative to
the Colonial General Court from Mendon.

Joseph Chapin, an exemplary citizen of Milford,
was the son of Captain Seth, and Gershom was the

[ II]

second son of Joseph. He lived in Milford, and
later in Uxbridge, and saw action in the Colonial
Wars, marching in 1757 to the relief of Fort
William Henry under Colonel WilHams. His son
Henry, also captain (of militia), was the father of
Eliza.

To go back still further: it has long been a tra-
dition in the Chapin family, which researches of
late years appear to have estabhshed as a fact, that
the Chapins were originally French Huguenots
descended from Hugh Capet (coming from Nor-
mandy, v/here a village now retains their name);
that they came first to England and thence to
America, having outdone the English themselves
in becoming Puritans of the Puritans.

Iron wills, strong principles and beliefs, deep
religious impulses, and often much executive
ability have characterized many of this immense
family, the Puritan sternness often tempered with
a large degree of geniality. Physically, also, many
of them were of a strong type; some were tall above
the average, not many generations back one son of
Anak in a collateral Hne, Ephraim Chapin (he
was a great-uncle of Eliza), recording seven feet or
more to his height.

CHAPTER II
CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH

BY MARY CHAPIN SMITH

I WILL quote from the autobiographical sketch of
Samuel Austin Chapin, Mrs. Wheaton's brother,
for whom Chapin Hall was named: "I have very
pleasant recollections of my childhood with my
sister Eliza, who was two years older than myself,
and was my ever-present companion to ramble
about the green fields, and in the autumn to gather
shellbarks and chestnuts. I shall ever carry with
me a friendly regard for that old home and farm of
my early childhood on Northbridge Hill. . . . The
'great September gale' made a deep impression of
wonder and then of terror. It occurred September
23, 18 15, when I was four years old. No other such
destructive and extensive hurricane was known
during the century. Trees were uprooted, buildings
blown down, and roofs and chimneys were torn
off in vast numbers. My father and brother were
engaged in liberating the sheep from a portion of
the barn which was blown down, while my mother,
Eliza, and myself were huddled together in the
house, expecting every moment to be blown away.

[ 13]

My brother Judson came to get us out of the house
and take refuge behind a great double wall (yet
standing) at the barnyard. They held on to me and
got me there in safety, but Eliza was blown away
against a portion of the barn which had fallen, and
she was badly bruised. We still have great affec-
tion forthat old stone wall which gave us shelter. . . .
" When I was about six years of age, my father
sold this farm in Northbridge and bought one in
Sutton, embracing a water power with a sawmill
and a blacksmith's shop. The sawmill gave em-
ployment to my brother Judson, and my brother
Henry, having become a scythe maker, took charge
of the blacksmith's shop and manufactured scythes
in large quantities. He finally took with him a
large invoice of scythes for Ohio and settled at
Xenia. He did not again return to New England,
but removed to Michigan in 1830 with his teams
and flocks and became a wealthy and prosperous
farmer. We were about one mile from North-
bridge Hill, which was our place to attend church.
We were about the same distance from Elder
Boomer's Baptist church, where I often went. We
were favored with a good new brick schoolhouse
within a few rods of our home. It was here that
I took my first lessons in swimming, skating, fish-
ing, and coasting. In coasting my sister Eliza was
ever with me, and we made a fine success of it on

[ H]

a large scoop coal shovel from the blacksmith's
shop till we had nearly worn it out by carrying
double down the long hill. When Houghton, the
smith, knew what we were doing, we were not very
happy. . . .

"When I was twelve years of age we moved
to Baylies Hill in Uxbridge, near Grandfather
Baylies's, about one mile from the Sutton home.
From this home I walked one mile and a half to the
* Brick Academy' at Uxbridge Centre, where I com-
pleted my academic studies under Squire Jaquith."

We see that this brings Eliza very near the dear
grandfather, close to the old BayHes homestead,
where she and the little Austin had often found such
delight in a visit to the grandparents. Let us take a
look at the place where Nicholas Baylies hved.

The house is a rambling, interesting old structure
of unusual size and much dignity and impressive-
ness in spite of its ruined condition, evidently built
with its various accretions to accommodate patri-
archal numbers. The multitudinous small Hghts in
the many windows, the old-fashioned panelHng of
the outer doors, with small squares of glass high up
and transom lights across the top, the old style
framing about the front doorway, and the general
air about the house and grounds, all attest its vener-
ableness. Various traditions are held regarding it;
one is that the large farm connected with it (through

[ 15]

which runs the town boundary) was a part of the
great tract of land "taken up" by the father of the
first wife of Nicholas, who was Abigail Wood of
Uxbridge and EHza's grandmother. At any rate, the
young Nicholas was only twenty or twenty-one
when he married, and here he lived a long life and
brought up a large family; here, too, must have
been formed some of the deepest impressions of
Eliza's youth. To these early impressions was
doubtless due the fervently religious attitude of all
her future life.

Her tenacious attachment to friends and relatives
was one of her strongest traits; although in this
large family there were many brothers and sisters,
for certain reasons, partly because of close associa-
tion in later life, some of them were much nearer to
her than others, though all were dear.

Adolphus, the second son, when for a long time
his parents, with but slender means, suffered from
feeble health, put aside for many years the thought
of marital ties, and devoted himself to be their stay;
and it was he who helped the young girl Eliza to her
education, most richly repaid to his daughter in
after years. To him Eliza turned instinctively for
tender comfort and wise advice in various times of
bereavement and trouble. He was a quiet, unas-
suming man, but nevertheless, and for all his gen-
tleness and tenderness, he was also a man of will

[ i6]

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power, great accuracy, and most reliable judgment.
After the death of her husband, Mrs. Wheaton must
have felt for a time in her bewilderment as if the
world's hand were turned against her; she who had
been so shielded from serious business cares was
overwhelmed with a formidable array of properties
to dispose of, affairs to settle, lawsuits impending.
In these difficulties she appealed to this much older
brother, whose calmness and good judgment were
her chief aid in piloting her through these shoals.
One lawsuit was carried to a successful issue, the
others were averted, and the various matters were
finally so arranged that her wonderful business
faculties had time to assert themselves, and she
assumed that firm control of business matters
which was never fully relaxed until her death.

The sister Mary was the only sister who lived.
Another died in infancy. Six years of difference in
age is but a trifle, which in maturity counts for no-
thing; in many ways Mary and Eliza were much
alike, physically and mentally, and seldom have
two sisters been so united heart and soul through a
long life and so blessed with opportunities for fre-
quent intercourse. One year before the marriage of
Ehza, this sister Mary was herself married to Wil-
lard Judson, son of Rev. Samuel Judson of Ux-
bridge. In the course of years their new home was
built on another hilltop just above the village; and

[ 17]

here later on came the filial son, the long-confirmed
bachelor Adolphus, with his newly acquired wife
Cynthia, to establish his household gods within a
stone's throw of " Sister Mary's." Uxbridge, beau-
tiful Uxbridge, with its woods and waters, was set
in the glory of the hills, and these two homes were
enfolded in clouds of apple-blossoms, looking out
over green valleys and the white morning mists that
rise above the Blackstone to other orchards and
villages and other hills beyond; a place of sweetness
and quiet, of sunsettings and sunrisings. For over
forty-five years these lovely hilltops were Mrs.
Wheaton's dearest Mecca, or rather might we say
that, like Christian, she journeyed on for a time
until she came to the chamber called Peace, where
she slumbered for a night. As she herself expressed
it, in a day of sorrow, "These visits do make green
spots in my pilgrimage."

Another brother, older than herself, was Judson,
and as he settled in West Roxbury, not very far from
Norton, many delightful visits were exchanged.
A certain sweetness and clarity of expression
always dominated his features, and I think that he
had less of the stern Puritan element that existed
in the others, though in all largely intermingled
with softer, sweeter traits. The others were ex-
tremely orthodox and as fond of a tough theological
nut as Mrs. Stowe's people in "Oldtown Folks:"

[ .8]

his views were different, for though he beheved in
as well as Hved a consistent Christian life, he never
could believe that salvation depended on an emo-
tional experience and an intellectual assent. The
sister EHza grieved for years over her ineffectual
attempts to "convert" this most dearly beloved
brother, this beautiful Christian, to her own theo-
logical views in order to save his soul. But late in
life she indicated, perhaps indirectly, that she had
come to hope that God's goodness and a life lived
in the spirit of Christ might after all be greater
than the measure of the creeds. Theological dif-
ferences had never hindered the full satisfying in-
terchange of brotherly and sisterly affection.

Judson's home was also a delightful one. The
house itself was one of those unpretentious, old-
fashioned houses that we wish could last forever,
there is such an atmosphere of charm about them;
low ceilings, small window-panes, choice old ma-
hogany inside, — among other pieces a beautiful,
treasured old desk that belonged to the father,
Henry Chapin, — a garden outside where the sweet
old-fashioned things were glad to grow; those in-
tangible voices everywhere in the air that sing of a
very happy home.

But the darling of Eliza's heart was her brother
Austin. Very near her own age, their childhood
was passed together in constant companionship

[ -9]

of play and study, of childish duties and joys and
sorrows, and many times has she indicated that
this was a bond of peculiar strength, never to be
broken. A portion of Austin's married life was
spent in Norton, and after his removal to Cali-
fornia there were occasional visits that were hailed
with great delight. Later, when the strong man,
whose life in a certain sense had been a warfare,
— with danger and death in the early pioneer days
of California and Nevada, in those wild mountain
mines, and afterwards with the pressure of busi-
ness cares and many interests, — in weariness felt
the memories of his childhood thronging upon
him like waves beating with irresistible force, she
opened her heart and house to him and to his
gentle wife, and for a number of years thereafter
her life was made very much happier ^by his pre-
sence.

It is something which unfortunately is not al-
ways and everywhere achieved, but in this con-
nection it may be well to say that Mrs. Wheaton's
relations with all her sisters-in-law and also with
the one brother-in-law were of the happiest.
There was never any change in this pleasant,
loving intercourse which lasted as long as life.

These are a few of those whose love was like
many garlands that wreathed about her from her
childhood to old age; so continuous and closely

[20]

woven were these garlands that it seemed im-
possible to make a break in them, but now, rose
by rose, we must find our way back to her girlhood
days.

The academies that preceded the high schools
and seminaries of Massachusetts were many of
them notable institutions for that day, and among
them the Uxbridge Academy took high rank.
This school, which first opened in 1820, was at-
tended by Mary, Eliza, and Austin. For some
years the principal was Mr. Abiel Jacques (Squire
Jaquith), a Harvard graduate and a man of cul-
tivated mind. Though eccentric, he seemed to
have a talent for teaching and for developing the
minds of his pupils, inciting them to effort and
retaining their love and respect. It was while
Eliza was studying at this academy and living in
the family of Amariah Chapin, who was a cousin
of her father and a successful merchant in this
place, that she became acquainted with her future
husband. The l^^et school that she attended was
the Young Ladies' High School, in Boston. Eben-
ezer Bailey was the principal and Miss Maria
Weston the preceptress. Among carefully trea-
sured relics were a catalogue of this school and a
presentation copy to "Miss E. B. Chapin, from
her friend, E. B.," of a spirited prize ode, "Tri-
umphs of Liberty," written by Mr. Bailey. Shortly

[21]

after this she was married to Laban Morey
Wheaton of Norton, son of Judge Wheaton, the
marriage taking place at Uxbridge in the house
on the hill (everything spoke of the hilltops
there), which was the home of her sister Mary
Judson, not very far from that later residence
where the Judsons lived so many years and where
they died.

Imagine this June bride of nineteen, a tall,
slender sHp of a girl, clad in the wedding robe that
still exists, a soft white India muslin in the simple
fashion of the day, with baby waist and narrow
ruffles edged with thread lace some distance above
the hem of the straight skirt. She was a hand-
some, dignified creature, this young girl with her
chestnut-auburn hair, probably confined by a
high comb, her slender oval face, small fine straight
nose, and blue eyes that showed a gentle direct-
ness and seriousness of purpose. Indeed, it was
her girlish dignity even more than her beauty
that finally captured the heart of Mr. Wheaton.
He had already built the beautiful house that was
to receive his bride. When she entered it the three
elms standing guard in front were even then so
majestic that she thought them very old.^ From

^ Many years ago one of these elms seemed to be dying.
Professor Russell, who lectured at the Seminary on Botany at
that time, was called upon to give a diagnosis, and he pro-

[22]

that hour, for seventy-six long years, these faith-
ful sentinels were to keep their silent watch and
ward over the home and life of this girlish bride,
while the home itself became an integral part of
her being. With naturally a strong attachment to
all places associated with those dear to her, her
young heart sent out deep roots down into the
soil of this new home, and here love, which was
her soul, her very self, blossomed into fruition.
Delightful journeys were often her pleasure, but
always the return was a greater joy, like the swift,
glad flight of a homing pigeon.

Norton itself she took to dwell within her heart
of hearts. A suggestion looking towards a change
of residence was received with anything but en-
thusiasm, though she was ready to yield to an-
other's wish.

It is in this way that she writes of that much-
loved place: "There I would hope to live and there
would I wish my spirit might take its upward
flight to God and my body mingle with the dust
till it is raised incorruptible." This deep affection
has shown itself in many ways, and was never

nounced the trouble to be that its water-supply had been cut ofF.
It proved that a well, long disused and filled with elm-roots,
had been cleaned out and brought into service again, thus rob-
bing the tree of its accustomed supply of water. The well was
given up to the tree and the tree was speedily restored to
health.

[23]

quenched by grief and trouble, nor by years; as
she has told me more than once, it was the love
for Norton, for the surrounding country, and
above all for the daughters of the town and the
region roundabout, her heart's desire that they
might receive greater educational privileges, that
gave birth to the idea of Wheaton Seminary,
which was her only child.

CHAPTER III

THE WHEATON HOME

BY MARY CHAPIN SMITH

The new home, whose stately entrance sym-
bolized its generous hospitality, was for several
generations the meeting-place of scores of friends
of the genial master of the house and its kindly
chatelaine; and in time these shadowy figures,
flitting in and out, promenading the garden walks
and pleasant grove, are seen to be, in many cases,
figures of import in the history of Wheaton Semi-
nary. This dim procession of ^' ces Dames du
Temps Jadis^'' — oh, for some nobler Villon to
sing the praises of these ladies of bygone days,
whose eyes were bright and faces fair, whose
minds were fountains of strength and wisdom,
whose hearts were wells of purity and the love of
God ! Here they came for consultation, for friend-
ship, for rest and relaxation. Among them was
the noble Mary Lyon, and with her Miss Caldwell,
like a brave young knight on an unknown quest.
Here were also the queenly Miss Vose of the flash-
ing eyes and nimble wit; the blue-eyed Miss

[25]

Knight of the silver tongue; that Lady Eloquent,
Miss Martha Sawyer, full of grace in face and
form, in thought and in expression; that mistress
of the flowing line, beloved Lucy Larcom; and
others too, many of them in the heyday of their
youth. Their high purposes did not preclude the
enjoyments natural to their years. In this shelter-
ing home, on neutral ground, these dignified young
principals and teachers could sometimes cast aside
their panoply of state, and for the moment give
care the cold shoulder and be girls together; there
was the flash of wit with merry jest, and girlish
pranks were played, and — let me whisper it in
your ear — even Cupid himself was allowed to
enter these friendly portals.

Let us make the better acquaintance of the
master of the house. Doubtless he was an Epi-
curean, dropped by mistake into a Puritan nest.
By nature he was fond of pleasure and gayety, of
friendship, of luxury, and all beautiful things; by
training and environment he was deeply imbued
with the severest ideas of those early days. Among
his memoranda, evidently carried in a pocketbook,
was found a tiny scrap of paper bearing five max-
ims. They are excellent ones, and from what I
know of him I feel sure that he had followed them in
his Hfe: "i. Never regret what is unintentionally
lost. 2. Never believe that which seems impossible.

[26]

o

o

H
<

w

HI

3- Never expose your disappointments to the world.
4. Never complain of being ill-used. 5. Always
speak well of your friends; of your enemies say
nothing." He was a faithful and generous friend;
the expression of his face was very kindly, indicative
of his disposition, and there was often a pleasant
smile, with a humorous twinkle about the eyes.

A passionate lover of flowers, he was always sur-
rounded by them, his gardens being of the charm-
ing old-fashioned type, box-bordered, full of all
manner of blooms yielding their perfume in every
season; the greenhouses too, though partly filled
with luscious grapes, the clear white and the rich
Black Hamburg, were also devoted to flowers;
and the house through many months was full of
them everywhere, in attic, in back entry, in the
deep embrasure of wide sunny front windows, in
the upper hall, in drawing-room and sitting-room;
everywhere was the scent of rose and heliotrope,
of stephanotis and carnation, the jewelled droop
of crimson cactus, the rosy oleanders, and the
lemon and orange trees in fruit and flower that
claimed their corners of the rooms.

He enjoyed music, and one of Mrs. Wheaton's
pictures of the home-life represents him "in the

drawing-room playing the flute while M is at

the piano."

Fond as he was of the pleasures of the table, the

[27]

least indulgence was dearly paid for by terrible
headaches, and in spite of early tastes, he was a vig-
orous champion of the temperance cause.

He hked and generally kept fine blooded horses,
and all through their married Hfe Mr. and Mrs.
Wheaton were accustomed to take long drives
through the country, going delightfully on and on
from town to town, through lovely forest roads,
sometimes for days together. We can imagine them
stopping on the way home to pick barberries, which
were preserved the next day.

They were often accompanied by their coach dog
Romeo, a curious creature with leopard-Hke spots
that still lives in a faint old daguerreotype, and that
apparently was held in high regard in proportion to
the trouble he gave them, for he was always run-
ning away. One or more dogs always formed part
of the establishment, and in my day, a sign of
portent. Beware of the Dogy was generally affixed
to the front of the carriage house. Sometimes the
defender was a toothless old fellow, too old for
further action, and sometimes a fierce young beast,
ready for the fray. It was regarding one of the lat-
ter sort that Ellen Beane once said that she wished
"it would please the Lord to remove him." And
greatly did she exult in his demise!

Many of the drives were to "Sister Mary's," or
" Brother Adolphus's," or "Brother Judson's," for

[28]

very frequent was the exchange of visits between
the families, and often "Sister Mary" herself and
"Brother Willard" would take their chaise and
pony and join in these charming journeys. Mr.
Wheaton's hospitality was unbounded and his
geniality winning, especially when with friends of
his choice. Mrs. Wheaton's love for her own circle
of relatives was lasting as life, and Mr. Wheaton
seemed to adopt them all as his very own.

Although these two married people were so un-
like, yet they seemed to be admirably adapted to
each other, and their mutual love was deep and
abiding. In 1848 Mrs. Wheaton was for a long time
in Brooklyn for medical treatment, and the love
letters of this woman who had been married for
nineteen years are full of expressions that show the
tenderness of her attachment for husband and
home. This passionate daughter of the Puritans, —
only the New Englander by birth or by inheritance
can understand the fires that blaze beneath these
Puritan snows, — under her stately dignity and
reserve was love unquenchable; love for husband,
for relatives and friends, for home, for her religion.
Every turning of her life shows this; the world itself
was not too large to hold within the embrace of her
great heart; forever flowed upon all around her the
affluent waves of her desire to yield tenderness, ser-
vice, generosity, help, and love.

[29]

She writes to her husband, whom she misses:
" Your letters will be one of my sweetest sources of
pleasure. Your dear sober face is by me. I value it

above price. Mrs. B says she never saw a more

perfect likeness. It is your usual expression. There
is a more cheerful one you often have that I would
have chosen, but if I could not have that, nothing
would tempt me to part with what I have," This
to her friend Miss Martha Sawyer (Mrs. Holmes),
whom she often called "Sister Mattie," greatly to
the mystification of strangers, who could never
determine whether the ladies were sisters in fact
or by affection : " My very dear sister, I watched
the carriage that took you both away till it turned
from my sight. I found my way to Fulton Street,
but did not want to take an omnibus; my eyes
were too much like April clouds (though a thick
veil covered them) to be looked at very steadily."
In this passage she refers to the adopted son:
"Yesterday I sat and sewed on my dear boy's
shirt till my arm ached very hard and does to-
day from the effects of it. As I think of La and
his long, long silence, I do feel grieved. I long to
see him." One day she started for New York: "It
was Saturday evening, you know, and it seemed
that everybody was coming over to Brooklyn. I
began to feel rather queer about going, but I kept
on, and found there were some folks left in New

[30]

York, — and some, too, to return in the ferry-boat
when I did."

She wishes Mr. Wheaton to wear "the fashion-
ably long" white vests that gentlemen are wearing
these warm days. "I can but think one would be
very becoming to my husband. . . . 'T is such as you
were married in, when 'you never looked so well
before.' They are a very genteel dress with a black
cravat to which you are so partial." Undoubtedly
he bought the vests! She tells him of her adventure
with a little dog: "After crossing over the ferry
yesterday, a little fox-colored dog came trotting to
me and gazed into my face with a most kind, con-
fiding look, and seemed to say, 'Why, I am all
alone too, I'll go with you and be your little dog.'
So on he went with me, every now and then peep-
ing into my face with apparent delight. Occasion-
ally he would run back a few steps and smell the
feet of others, and as I passed through one group
of people after another, I thought he would take
another friend. But no! he followed me in this
way without the least invitation on my part except
kind looks, till I reached the Astor House, through
crowd and bustle. There some rude boys shoved
him off into the street, and as I went down towards
Church Street I saw no more of him. He was un-
muzzled and doubtless from the country Hke my-
self. I felt queer to have him follow me. I thought

[3> ]

of asking some boys to coax him to stop till I
was out of sight, but that seemed too much Hke be-
traying confidence. To appreciate the interview
you should have seen it, as nothing but that would
convey to your mind his expressive looks and

actions."

She writes her "Sister Mattie" minute directions
about the housekeeping, about having the grass
often cut short on the lawn, and so on in careful
detail. Her delight is expressed over her letters:
"As for the bag and contents! I was almost over-
come with joy. That package of letters! Oh, how
my heart leaped at the sight of it. The seals full of
meaning, 'good news,' assured me I had nothing to
fear. And those flowers, so sweet and beautiful! I
felt they came all smiling from my dear home, fra-
grant with the heart's best affections and laden with
wishes for a joyful welcome. It is not enough to
breathe their fragrance, but I love to press them to
my Hps."

Mrs. Holmes, the "Sister Mattie," was Hke a
dear younger sister not only to herself, but to Mr.
Wheaton. For years the close companionship con-
tinued, and when the family (the Holmes family)
left Norton permanently, Mrs. Wheaton bewails
their loss: "The morning train took Lottie (Miss
Charlotte Sav^er) and Mattie. So their home is
deserted and no more of their pleasant offices and

[3^]

kindly sympathy." In spite of parting this friend-
ship continued through life.

The Wild family was also intimately connected
with the Wheatons, George Wild, Sr., being a cou-
sin of Mr. Wheaton, and an elder brother of Laban,
the adopted child. Mr. Wheaton was interested in
so many business and public matters that he
needed some one with whom to share the responsi-
bility and care of his various properties, especially
when absent on long journeys, and well was this
burden carried by Mr. Wild, who was a complete
encyclopedia of information, besides being a man
of great business capacity and energy. After Mr.
Wheaton's death his widow found here one who
looked after her interests as faithfully as his own.
Mr. Wild dying in his turn, his son Alfred, who is
like him in many ways, continued this superin-
tendence with much ability and the same invalua-
ble spirit of fidelity. Mrs. Wild and Mrs. Wheaton
were more Hke sisters than neighbors, and the chil-
dren were among those especially dear to the latter.
The daughter Mary ardently loved and admired
her, and the love was reciprocated by giving Mary
much the same place in her affections that her own
nieces enjoyed. There were pleasant days recorded
when she took Lizzy (Mrs. Wild) and the children
chestnutting, when she "went graping" with them,
when she went to walk in Neck Woods with "Laby,"

1 33]

and they "found four young woodcock, — caught
two and let them go;" anxious days when Georgy
and little Mary were very sick with typhus fever,
and she helped care for them and sat through the
night by the bedside of the dehrious boy.

Laban Wild, a young cousin of Mr. Wheaton,
was born in Boston in 1835, and was adopted by
the Wheatons when three years old, taking the
name of his adopted father, Laban M. Wheaton,
Mrs. Wheaton often used to speak of him in a most
loving, reminiscent manner, and certain mementoes
of his childhood were tenderly preserved, especially
a little low chair in which he used to sit by her side.
Her journal says, "He was a lovely little boy,
though his mother told us before we took him she
did n't know what to do with him, he was so head-
strong." Mrs. Wheaton found no special difficulty
for some weeks, when she attempted to teach him
his letters, and was confronted by a fit of calm
obstinacy. These seasons of obstinacy would occa-
sionally come upon him as long as he stayed with
the Wheatons, and at such times he was kept in his
room till he yielded, when he came out. Mrs.
Cyrus W. Allen writes of him: " I remember Laban
when he first came to your house, a Httle boy,
bright and interesting. I remember him as he was
the first time you took him to church. I can per-
fectly recall his looks as you presented him for bap-

[34]

tism. He looked very pale, as if the solemnity of the
occasion awed him. I can see him now in his little
green coat. I remember a day which I spent at
your house, how he amused himself all day playing
the merchant, talking incessantly, and asking in-
numerable questions, some of which would puzzle
wiser heads than ours to answer." Mrs. Judson
writes after his death: "No event for a long time
has so moved the fountain of tears as the death of
this poor boy. My mind goes back to the time when
you first brought him toUxbridge some fifteen years
ago, and follows him on some years as the most
lovely and perfect child — so fascinating that many
of his ways and sayings will be remembered as long
as I live: later on, you begin to feel 'anxious about
Laban,' you pray for him with great fervency and
affection, and adopt the language of Abraham, *0
that Laban might live before Thee.' "

I take it from all that I have read of him and
heard from Mrs. Wheaton's Hps that he was a boy
with certain serious faults difficult to eradicate and
of a temperament that must have required peculiar
treatment. It would appear that excessive strict-
ness might be as disastrous for him in one way as
too great freedom in another. It is certain that he
was very lovable and attractive, that he had many
good qualities; but it seems that he might have been
rather unsuitably placed at school. The last school

[35]

that he attended was of confessedly rigid require-
ments. As the principal says, " We mark all irregu-
larities, and a very limited number sends a boy
home." This principal writes wisely and kindly
about Laban, appreciative of his good traits, but
frankly says that this school is not the place for him.
Unfortunately he fell to the tender mercies of a
man not like the principal, but very like a stick
attired in clergyman's garb. The result of such a
situation might easily be foreseen. The marks took
him home. There was also a personal break in his
relations with the Wheatons; something had been
said and done, I do not know what. About two
years later he writes them from his home in Newark.
He has found employment in New York with a
large wholesale firm and shows a dehghtful boyish
pride in his promotion, in the confidence of the
firm, for he goes on board vessels getting bills of
lading signed, he collects notes and pays bills, thus
being responsible at times for large sums of money
with which he is intrusted. The letter rings with
sincerity and is inexpressibly touching, there is such
a mingling of manly independence with a regret for
the wrong things said and done, such a longing for
the hitherto unappreciated affection that had been
bestowed upon him, a sense of loss from the "want
of some one to look up to, and to direct [him] in the
way which is right."

[36]

Six months after this he was taken ill with
typhoid pneumonia, which resulted in his death.
From the beginning of his sickness, he continually
called for his father and mother Wheaton, espe-
cially for the latter. They both hastened to him, but
they could not grant his eager request, " Could n't
you wrap me up and carry me to Norton ?" for
they knew the journey would be fatal to him.
When the boy, scarcely eighteen, died, his body was
brought to Norton, where the funeral services were
held in church (the seminary girls walking with the
mourners), and then was buried in the Wheaton lot
on the Common.

His adopted parents sorrowed greatly at his
death. Perhaps their best comfort was that sug-
gested by "Sister Cynthia" in a letter to Mrs.
Wheaton. " It must be some alleviation of your sor-
row to reflect that you were with him to soothe him
in his sickness, and that, though not restored to
your family circle, he was restored to your hearts
and regarded you with filial affection."

Though there was never after this any child in
the Wheaton home, Mrs. Wheaton manifested love
for many children. The Holmes children were
great favorites, frequently visiting at her house.
Here is a bit of fine insight into the heart of a child
for a childless woman to compass. A little girl, a
niece, from the invalidism of her father was rather

[37]

restricted in her childish companionships and plays,
and scarcely knew what it was to have a pet; she
longed for a dog, hence this letter to the father:
"I think I should let her have a dog if I were you,
if you do not this one. She craves something to
pet and will have it somehow or other — either
companions or animals, and this may be the least
objectionable way of satisfying the cravings of her
nature. You must try and meet these calls of her
young heart in some way." Although in feeble
health at times, she was not too much absorbed
in her own troubles to write letters to her juvenile
friends, and to repeat to this same little girl the
story of " Enoch Arden " and tales from the " Way-
side Inn."

When Annette, her brother Austin's child, was
ill in Uxbridge, she went there to care for her, and
then took her to her own home; when another
daughter, Ella, died, she was heartbroken as if
herself the mother. A visit to this kindly house
was indeed a treat, and many are the nephews
and nieces that have entered within its gates. This
affection has always followed a large circle of
them as they grew up to manhood and woman-
hood, some with children of their own, and it was
a love that has shown itself in manifold practical
details of personal care and generosity.

When we remember that Mrs. Wheaton was

[38]

born as long ago as 1809, we can better appreciate
the survival in her house of an ancient and inter-
esting New England custom, — the keeping of
Saturday night. Whatever we might do in the
privacy of our rooms was a matter of individual
conscience, but downstairs the Sabbath began at
sundown. Business matters were suspended, and
we were not expected to bring our sewing or fancy
work into the sitting-room Saturday evening, nor
to do anything unsuitable to the near approach of
the Sabbath, which was rigidly kept in those days
in many families of Puritan descent. When Sun-
day night came, the strictness of observance was
relaxed, so that any necessary business letters
were written or affairs attended to that could not
conveniently be left over to the next day. During
the latter part of Mrs. Wheaton's life this custom
was dropped, partially at least.

To one who has known Mrs. Wheaton only in
the last decades of her life, when she was absorbed
in large affairs or gently fading into the twilight,
it seems odd to think of her as immersed in house-
hold cares, as often making butter with her own
hands, or looking after the packing of apples on
the back piazza, the cutting and packing of pork,
the pruning of trees, busy in caring for the rooms,
or waging the housekeeper's insurgent war of
spring; yet she took great delight in her household

[39]

duties (all except the "buttering," which she dis-
liked), and everything was under her personal
supervision. Many were the pies of mince and
golden squash, the cakes galore, the plum pud-
dings and custards, prepared by her for festal occa-
sions and for daily use. I can assure you that
they were excellent, that the pies were well worth
the extreme penalty which might attach to the
disposal of them, while the plum puddings were
a dream of bliss.

Mrs. Wheaton was a diligent seamstress and
not unacquainted with the mysteries of embroid-
ery, as some trifles testify, laid aside unfinished a
half century ago. Another silent witness is a skein
of floss. Silkworms were raised and fed on mul-
berry leaves in the carriage house, but the result
did not reach as far as the loom. There was remain-
ing only this soft mass of creamy floss.

A recollection of one of my first visits to Norton
is that my aunt took me about the place and told
me of this experiment in silkworm raising, and also
of her early household cares in the first days of
her married life, dwelling with great pride on her
milk rooms, for she enjoyed the care of the milk
and cream, even if she did dislike the churning
and working of the butter. Bees were kept for
many years, and there was the honey to look after
and divide among the neighbors. Don't you wish

[40]

you had been there to receive some of this "lucent
honey dripping from the comb" ? You know the
long path, box-bordered, between the ranks of
currant bushes that ran down so far back of the
house, where there is a bit of an orchard. The
hives were kept in a line beyond at the left as you
reached the end of the currant row, and there they
remained for years after the bees and honey had
disappeared. The currant row itself is reminiscent
of my aunt in fruit time, of her jelly-making, the
invitations to young seminarists and teachers to
come "at sunset" and eat currants, to friends and
neighbors to come and fill their baskets for their
own jelly-making.

The earher years of Mrs. Wheaton's marriage
belonged, to a certain extent, to the golden age of
American furniture. Many pieces of fine design
were found in the houses of those days that later
on were relegated to the garret, crowded out by
the vandal black walnut. This house was no
exception, but accumulated much of interest in
the successive years. It is nothing but wooden
stuff, you may say, but it has tongues that will
speak to those whose memories go half-way back
to meet it. The first dining-table that was used by
the youthful Wheatons was a little square mahog-
any affair, with slender legs and slight curves run-
ning in on the sides at the places where people sit,

[41]

as if desirous of encircling them with inviting em-
brace. The china that graced the board in some
of these early years was the old Canton blue,
many pieces of which, having survived the on-
slaughts of time, are now in the possession of
some of Mrs. Wheaton's nieces. Do any of you
remember the tiny washstands of Sheraton shape,
one of them three-cornered, or that immense four-
poster bedstead surmounted by apparent cannon-
balls in gilded innocence ? There were charming
mahogany bureaus, a much older mahogany chest
of drawers set on claw feet grasping a ball; there
were many beautiful mahogany tables of all sizes
and styles, from the simplest form to those elabo-
rately and heavily carved. One old desk is of spe-
cial interest. It belonged to Judge Wheaton, and was
for years used by him as a writing-desk. It is of
the typical colonial form, with the ends of cherry,
the rest of Honduras mahogany (much lighter
than the San Domingo), having the usual brasses,
the slides to support the top, and the secret drawer.
Another piece of furniture, interesting from asso-
ciation, is now in the possession of Mr. Alfred
Wild, a relative of the Wheatons. It is a sturdy,
plain old wooden office chair, with low back curv-
ing around to the arm, the right-hand arm spread
out to a great width to serve as a table. Here
Judge Wheaton wrote, and on this table arm he

[42]

mixed his toddies! This was before the days of
the temperance revolution, you know. Bless your
dear hearts, they all mixed toddies then! When I
was a young girl attending the Seminary and hap-
pily ensconced in the "long room" at my aunt's,
this chair was temporarily bestowed upon me, with
the hope expressed that I might find inspiration
in it. But alas! the inspiration did not come
through either toddy glass or pencil tip; for in
that chair I underwent awful agonies in composi-
tion of unruly essays, and I finally concluded that
the magic of association did not always "make
good."

Among the quaint old types of chairs, the oldest
were probably the lyre-backed or fiddle-backed,
which so many will remember as having a place in
the drawing-room. The seats were covered with
a rich cream-colored damask, once rainbow bright
with marvellous houses and trees, now softly faded,
which was bought at auction from the sea chest
of some defunct sea captain. Two other chairs,
dear to many hearts, were the tiny low cathedral
chairs, cushioned in crimson plush, in which
through many succeeding decades young girls
have sat at the feet of their worshipful elders: the
"queen mother," as Mrs. Wheaton has been called,
or the principal beloved and feared, or some favor-
ite teacher of the heart's first choice. Behold as it

[43]

fades into the past this procession of humble young
things, fair Sauls at the feet of receding Gamaliels.

Do you remember that piano, that ancient
Chickering, whose sweet thin tinkle never gave way
to the voice of any newer, more resounding in-
strument ? And do some of you remember, in the
drawing-room that afternoon of the "graduates'
tea," that our greatest treat was when Mrs. Met-
calf seated herself before it, and to our utmost
delectation played to us her tune, her one and
only, with one finger — or was it two .? And that is
the very chair, the big dark crimson arm-chair
with the fine carving atop where the dear lady
always sat on these state occasions, the chair of
honor reserved for her whom we all honored as the
supremest of principals, the most unique, the
wisest, kindest, firmest, and best, adored for her
adorable pout, for her incisive speech, exulted in
for her beauty, undimmed by age, — those tender
falls of snow, those faint sweet roses of autumn
time; undoubtedly she was a darling, though
greatly revered, and it was in our hearts that we
carried her.

Oh, this old home is full of ghosts, dear, friendly
comfortable ghosts, and everything in it utters
speech. The beautiful Napoleonic profile of Miss
Melius was often silhouetted against those walls,
and then be sure that Miss Carter's fragile form

[44]

was never far away. This was certainly a union of
the oak and the vine. The Lady Eloquent was
there again, once Miss Knight, now Mrs. Beane,
white-haired, with mild, sweet face, and when she
chose to expound high matters in those rounded
periods of sonorous dignity, there was no question
whether it were well to sit back and Hsten. Miss
Carter's fine intellect busied itself with things
abstruse, of rare import, while Miss Melius, we
quivering with extreme delight, delivered her
lordly pronunciamentos regarding the world and
its affairs; Miss Carter's rippling laugh would be
the answer, and Miss Melius, rising to take leave,
would always wind up her remarks with this:
"Now, Annie Carter, you know that it is thus and
so'* (and it generally was)! These two of the
"cottage" were great intimates at this house, and
many happy weeks have the four spent together at
the seaside and on their summer journeys.

As these forms came and passed, two others per-
haps may be said to have taken their place in the
rooms and heart of the mistress of the mansion. At
any rate, they were very dear to her: Miss Stanton,
the beauty of whose distinguished presence, gra-
cious dignity, and conversational charm was but the
window through which shone the fine light of the
inward spirit, and Miss Pike, whom one always
remembers with that heavy crown of soft hair

[45 3

about her gentle face, the teacher and "house-
mother" so dearly beloved of the girls for her
unusual attainments, her quick insight and tender
sympathy, she whose flying visits v^ere among the
"greatest joys" of Mrs. Wheaton's later days.

And so the procession interminably comes and
goes. Black coats were in it, for many men of note,
of affairs, of distinction, have had to do with
Wheaton Seminary, and have consulted and visited
at the Wheaton Mansion, but always in this house
I see an endless shadov^r^ train of women, the very
crown and flower of old New England.

CHAPTER IV

EARLY LIFE IN NORTON

Mrs. Wheaton must have been married almost
immediately upon leaving school, for her v^edding
day was June 25, 1829, ^"^ 7^^ ^^^ name appears
in the catalogue pubHshed in January, 1830, of the
Young Ladies' High School in Boston. This was
one of the very best of all the good schools for
which Boston has always been noted. Among the
168 names of the catalogue a large majority are
those of well-known old Boston families, famed
quite as much for their solidity of character as for
their wealth and culture. The prospectus of the
school shows that a sound Enghsh education was
its first desideratum, though Professors were
employed in French, ItaHan, Spanish, music, and
dancing, these branches being counted as extras.
The price of tuition was $80 a year — a very high
price for those days. The regulations are such as
to be a guarantee that the pupils would receive
the best training both in character and habits. It
is remarked, "The government of the school is
strictly one of laws. The rules and regulations
were formed by a committee, selected by the

[ 47 ]

scholars themselves." It is also said, "No scholars
are required to go through the whole course; and
few will be able to do so unless they begin at a very
early age, and are constant in their attendance."
This last clause seems rather severe, since school
kept twelve months in the year, with no vacations.
In those pre-normal-school days, it is significant
that there was in the school a class of young ladies
preparing to teach, and that these young ladies
were given practice in teaching in the school itself.
As this was at about the time when the monitorial
system of teaching was greatly in favor in this
country, it would seem that the Lancasterian plan
was in some measure adopted by the school.

That Eliza Chapin's course at this school had a
strong influence in moulding the course later
adopted at Wheaton Seminary there can be little
doubt.

On coming to Norton, she was received into a
family of wealth and culture. Judge Wheaton, her
husband's father, was a man of national reputa-
tion. Graduating from Harvard College, he had
studied for the ministry; but this profession prov-
ing injurious to his health, he afterwards be-
came a lawyer, and as such gained both fame and
wealth, for he had "with intellectual strength of a
very high order, acute legal knowledge and untiring
application to his professional duties." He sat for

[48]

seven years in the Massachusetts Legislature, and
represented his district in Congress for eight years.
In 1810, under Governor Gore, he was appointed
Chief Justice of the Court of Common Pleas; and
in 1819, under Governor Brooks, Chief Justice of
the Court of Sessions. He was an upright, bene-
volent man, but that he was undemonstrative is
shown by a remark of his I have heard my mother
quote: "I may have taken my daughter in my
arms when an infant, but my son never." The dog-
gerel of an irreverent boy, referring to "Old Judge
Wheaton's under jaw," gives us an even liveher
sense of his inflexibility than his fine, strong portrait
at the Seminary; yet, inflexible as he must have
been, no one can read the series of his brief letters,
now to become the property of the Seminary, relat-
ing his experience for years in caring for the insane
son of a friend living in England, without reahzing
the tenderness and self-sacrifice that accompanied
his conscientious devotion to duty.

"In 1794, at the age of forty, he was married to
his cousin. Miss Fanny Morey, daughter of Samuel
Morey, Esq.," of Norton, with whom he lived for
fifty-two years. Mrs. Wheaton outlived her hus-
band but two or three years. We know less of her
than of Judge Wheaton, but she must have been
a woman who sympathized with him in his bene-
volent undertakings, for when the Seminary was

[49]

opened, she temporarily gave up her comfortable
home — "now the Mansion House — the large
rooms being divided into two by partitions, for the
use of boarders," and when the little church was
built, she contributed to it from her private purse.
In our own Mrs. Wheaton's early letters, the affec-
tionate messages to "Mother Wheaton" show the
same regard and respect for her that were evinced
late in life whenever she referred to either " Father"
or "Mother" Wheaton.

Of the four children of the elder Wheatons two
died early, and at the time of Eliza Chapin's mar-
riage only Laban Morey and his sister Eliza F.
were Hving, the sister having married, in 1826,
Woodbridge Strong, M. D., of Boston.

This was the family into which the slender young
girl was now welcomed. Young and quiet as she
was, she had such integrity of character and such
dignity of bearing that it is clear she fully met the
somewhat exacting standards maintained in it.
There was no question that the family dignity
would be safe in her hands. Indeed, when one of
the townspeople, coming to her door, inquired
familiarly for "Laban," — naturally enough, since
he had been brought up side by side with him, —
her dismay was so great that it was remembered
for three quarters of a century. Her influence over
her husband was felt by all his friends to be enno-

[50]

bling, and one, writing to her after Mr. Wheaton's
death in 1865, says, " You have a husband in heaven
who might never have reached its pearly gates but
for you."

The few old people now living who remember
Mrs. Wheaton as a bride of twenty, all speak of her
as beautiful, and those of the next generation who
remember the traditions of their parents tell the
same story. Miss Mary E. Blair, one of Wheaton
Seminary's greatest teachers, in a paper written for
the meeting of the New England Wheaton Club in
1906, in memory of Mrs. Wheaton, pictures her
thus even thirty years later, "When I saw Mrs.
Wheaton for the first time in 1856, she was still in
the glory of womanhood, a beautiful woman, tall,
erect, and stately, with regular features, fair com-
plexion, and dark brown hair. She had great dig-
nity of manner, not inviting to familiarity."

She seems to have been a radiant, vigorous
young woman. In the circle that gathered in the
desolated mansion after her funeral was an old
gentleman who gave a characteristic word of hers.
It seems he had once tripped over some obstruction
on entering a room, and Mrs. Wheaton had said
quickly, "You should step high; I am a high-
stepper.''^ Hers was no shuffling gait. Even when
she was an elderly woman, many will remember
that she retained her strong, secure step. She was

[51]

high-spirited, — though not in the sense of taking
offence easily, for she was humble and reverent.

This young woman, looking eagerly out on the
world, ready to do all good things that her hands
found to do, had a warm and tender heart, and she
had not been long in the village before she began to
help in every way.

It was in 1832 that the Trinitarian Congrega-
tional Church was organized. Mrs. Wheaton was
not only one of its charter members, but took an
active interest in it from the beginning, which was
in keeping with the Chapin character — witness,
that of the forty-three members of the church organ-
ized in Chicopee in 1752, thirty-two were Chapins
of the same stock as Mrs. Wheaton.

She at once became a teacher in the new Sun-
day-school. An octogenarian, who was then a little
girl, writes that Mrs. Wheaton continued to be a
Sunday-school teacher till she was eighty years
old.

"At first," she says, "she had a class of young
boys, then of young ladies, then of older ones. . . .
I have received a letter from one of her Sabbath-
school boys — an old man now. He said that she
was a beautiful young lady at that time, he should
never forget her talks and her prayers for her
boys."

She seems to have been especially drawn to help

[52]

the children of the village in all things. The same
letter speaks of her early temperance work. "She
was interested in one of the greatest temperance
meetings that I ever knew in Norton. Each scholar
in the Sabbath-school was provided with a temper-
ance badge to wear on the shoulder, and [there was]
a flag at the head of every class. We marched to the
grove, where the tables were set with plenty of food
and beautifully decorated with flowers. John B.
Gough and other speakers from out of town were
present. Mrs. Wheaton was at the head of all this
great and good work. I was one of her scholars at
the time."

This temperance celebration, so vividly remem-
bered for seventy years or more, was not the only
part of Mrs. Wheaton's temperance work that
made an impression on the children. An old gen-
tleman writes, "When I was quite young I was in
what was called the 'Coldwater Army,' and it used
to meet in the church vestry. Very often we would
march, and go to Mrs. Wheaton's — go into her
dooryard. At such times she would come out and
talk to us in her kindly manner, trying to make
us live temperate Hves." This old gentleman adds:
"She always liked to look after the young people
and encourage them in doing right. I remember
once when there was some kind of entertainment at
the church vestry, some of the people talked of

[53]

having grab-boxes or something similar, and Mrs.
Wheaton objected, saying that she did not want
anything to 'smite the young people's conscience.'"
Of the spirit in which she worked, the same writer
says: "She was a person who did not care to joke
herself, but she enjoyed seeing other people have
a good time. She never seemed to want to push
herself ahead if it was going to interfere with the
plans of others, but would make suggestions, hop-
ing that they would think them over, at least."

Rigorous as Mrs. Wheaton's conscience was, she
seems generally to have preferred the wise way of
suggesting the good rather than of condemning the
bad. At a much later date, a lady remembers Mrs.
Wheaton's coming to visit her mother when she her-
self was a tiny child, and that Mrs. Wheaton ad-
dressed her, smiling benignantly, with the words,
"Ah, here is the little lady! " The "little lady" was
so proud of the title that she never forgot it, and
possibly it may have had something to do in form-
ing the charming manners that now distinguish her.
One lady, however, reports a mild reproof admin-
istered to her in her childhood by Mrs. Wheaton,
because she had said that the weather was "too
bad," "evidently thinking," the lady adds, "I was
finding fault with God's way of working. I remem-
ber it was said that when she planned to go away
from home the weather made no difference with

[54]

her. She did not plan that, but she was going to
follow her plans."

It will be seen that the early years of her mar-
ried Hfe were filled to the brim, not only with her
household duties, which were always perfectly
discharged, but with work for the church and for
the children of the town. The kind of devotion
she showed is illustrated by an entry in her journal
somewhat later in Hfe, when she made with her
own hands "Seven pans of Park St. cake for
children's pic-nic. Went to pic-nic, but staid but
little while my bones ached so."

Everyone remembers her, too, as being active in
the social Hfe of the village, and her notes referring
to the "Harmony Circle" show that she received
as well as gave pleasure by her interest in the
simple society of the place.

No life can be dull, though it may be painful,
to one who accepts all its responsibilities. And
that Mrs. Wheaton did from the first.

It must not be supposed, however, that the vari-
ety of her life consisted only in a variety of duties,
and that she had no more exhilarating pleasures
than a May-Day Festival or a panorama of Dr.
Kane's Arctic Expedition, though it is evident from
her notes that to her unspoiled mind even these
simple entertainments brought genuine enjoy-
ment.

[55]

All through their married life, Mr. and Mrs.
Wheaton were constant travellers. Their journeys
were not always long ones, but the number of
them was very large. They took delight in driving
all over the country with their own superb horses
— usually, in the early days at least, of the Black
Hawk strain. To drive to Boston, or Providence,
or Uxbridge, and spend a few charming days with
their numerous friends and relatives was their
habit whenever they had a little leisure, a|id these
friends and relatives were as frequently welcomed
in their own hospitable home.

At various times during every year, but especially
in the fine autumn weather, it was their custom to
take longer drives — to the Berkshire hills, to the
White Mountains, to Vermont, etc., etc. On these
tours they were usually accompanied by Mr. and
Mrs. Willard Judson, who seem to have had sim-
ilar tastes. Mrs. Judson was Mrs. Wheaton's
beloved and beautiful sister Mary.

As the railways were opened in different parts
of the country, these four people took advantage
of them to make longer journeys — especially to
Canada, to Saratoga, and various parts of the
West. Sometimes they started on their trips with
their own horses, leaving them at some convenient
point until their return.

The Wheatons were almost as often in New

[56]

York as in Boston. They had many friends there,
and they also made a point of seeing all the inter-
esting sights that are to be found in a great city. It
is noticeable in Mrs. Wheaton's journals that when
she visits any city, New York, Philadelphia, Wash-
ington, Cincinnati, or wherever it may be, she
always seems to have been first attracted by the
picture galleries. There could not have been much
worth seeing in them in those early days, but she
evidently longed to see all she could. The Euro-
pean galleries were to come later.

Another point of interest to her everywhere
was the flowers. Her diaries mention several
trips to Boston and Salem expressly to see the
Victoria Regia. She takes pains to fill a travelling-
bag with flowers from her own beautiful garden,
when sending it to her friends in New York, who
have no gardens, — not once, but often. Her love
of natural beauty was always an enthusiasm. In
her diaries, she notes not only the weather, but the
special beauty brought out by the weather. A beau-
tiful rainbow always seems to her worth mention-
ing. Of the famous ice storm of December, 1855,
she writes: "Every spire of grass and shrub and
tree, covered with ice, formed from the drizzly rain
of yesterday, which presented the most magnificent
display of crystals I ever looked upon — all glit-
tered with jewels of dazzling brilliance when the

[57]

sun shone. It continued perfect for 4 or 5 days." ^
The Wheatons kept up their custom of traveUing
as long as Mr. Wheaton Hved. They were often
accompanied by a party of friends, and one can
hardly doubt that in many cases their companions
were their guests. In 1854, one party of eleven,
including several Seminary teachers, visited the
White Mountains, whose scenery always roused
enthusiasm in Mrs. Wheaton. The crowning
achievement of this journey was the marriage, at
Crystal Falls, of the Rev. Mr. Lothrop to Miss
Gilman, the ceremony being performed by the
Rev. Franklin Holmes, the young pastor of the
Norton church, who the next year married Miss
Martha Sawyer, — at that time a member of the
Wheaton family, — who, with her sister Charlotte,
formed a part of the happy company.

The longest trip in the United States of which
we have any record was taken by the Wheatons,
with Miss Sav^er, in 1850. They visited New
York, Philadelphia, Baltimore, Washington, Har-
per's Ferry, Pittsburg, Cincinnati, Louisville, the
Mammoth Cave, Bowling Green, Nashville (where

^ It has been thought best not to "edit" the letters and
diaries of Mrs. Wheaton. If, in her hasty notes and enthusi-
astic descriptions, she occasionally forgets to construct her
sentences according to the rules of Lindley Murray, still, any
attempt on the part of another to correct her little lapses would
be sure to take something from the vividness of her v?ords.

[58]

a call was made on Mrs. Polk, widow of President
Polk), St. Louis, Jacksonville, Springfield, Chicago,
White Pigeon (to see the "precious brother Adol-
phus"), Kalamazoo, Detroit, Buffalo, Niagara
Falls (Table Rock fell within a few hours of their
standing upon it), Utica, Trenton Falls, Schenec-
tady, and Albany, whence they proceeded down
the Hudson to New York and thence home,
having been absent from April 30 to July 10.

As all the places visited are familiar to us now,
it would be, perhaps, out of place to quote largely
from Mrs. Wheaton's full journals and letters
describing this trip, though she writes with vivacity
of the beautiful scenes she visits. She must have
been a good traveller, or she could hardly have
endured the stage drive over the Alleghany Moun-
tains, which she thus describes in a letter to her
"very precious sister" Mary: "After the prelimi-
naries, we took our seats with the kindest feeling
we could summon on so suddenly being put on the
social system of packing 9 persons into the space
of a few feet, with certainty of passing the night
in the same dilemma, knowing that the next morn-
ing your feet might be claimed as somebody's
else, and somebody's else passed off for yours.
After being packed so we should not shake much
singly, the driver mounted and slowly measured
off his 10 miles, then fresh horses and driver and

[59]

another lO miles when we alighted for supper, —
and we were the largest company of stage pas-
sengers I've seen for 20 yrs., numbering about 70,
— there were 6 stages, and every 10 miles we
changed horses and drivers, which added much to
our comfort and safety by not having sleepy and
drunken drivers. The moon shone bright, and I
did a great deal of nodding, so that for two days
after hardly to be able to turn my head." On the
Monongahela they took a steamer for Pittsburg
(which she compares to a "blacksmith's shop").
On arriving at Pittsburg, she and "Matty" hast-
ened at once to the post-office, where "to my great
JOY," she says, " found two letters, one from you
and one from Maria" (Mrs. S. A. Chapin). In
Cincinnati, nothing interested her so much as Pow-
ers's Greek Slave, of which she had previously
"seen many copies in plaster and daugeritype (I
know I don't spell that ugly word right)." This
suggests the very recent introduction of the now
obsolete daguerreotype.

Of all the interesting places she visited on this
journey, none called forth such enthusiasm as
Mammoth Cave. She writes page after page of
foolscap in describing its marvellous sights. In her
pocket diary, she notes of her first day in the Cave:
"Walked 18 miles and saw things unutterable,
grand and wonderful!! Deep pits, awful chasms,

[60]

hollows, hills, domes, rivers, etc., are to be seen,
with stalactite and other remarkable formations."
In her letter to her sister, she thus describes the
river Lethe: "A River in a Cave!! The blackness
of darkness surrounds you. An arch high and
spanning some fifty feet all of stone, and a River
perhaps 25 or 30 ft. deep!! Stephen (the black
guide) steps into the boat and scoops out the
water. Then Matty and I step in and take our
seats. Mr. W. and a Mr. A. stand, while Stephen
sculls it along, all the while singing sweetly, which
breaks the unearthly stillness."

On the Echo River, the high arch becomes so
low that they cry out, " ' Oh, guide, we can't go
under!' 'Oh, I reckon we can,' he coolly re-
plies, and says, 'Bow your heads — bend over.'
We do so, almost lying down. An awful dilemma!!
Darkness behind — darkness before us. An arch
of solid rock over us, and a river 20 or 30 ft. deep
ready to swallow us up!!" The echo she thought
"very beautiful, surpassing the White Mt. Echo."

After a four-mile walk, they stop for refreshment:
"A napkin is spread on a rock — our lamps are
placed around it to give light, for altho' at noon-
day, not one ray of Hght for many miles can ap-
proach us. The bread, the pie, cookies, meat, etc.
are laid down and the pint flask of 'nice French
Brandy' is taken out, from which our new made

[61]

acquaintance, Mr. A., urges us to drink, but I
decline on the ground that I do not need it, that I
am a teetotaller, and that when I needed a very
steady head, it would be hazardous to take what
might make me giddy. He invites Stephen to
drink. I look anxiously, for on him our hopes de-
pend, with the blessing of God, for a safe return to
the world." The beauty of the stalactites and sta-
lagmites, the crystals and the columns, she feels
to be beyond description, but speaks of her "won-
der and delight" at what she saw.

She describes the dress of herself and "Matty"
on this occasion: "Turkish frocks and trousers,
our heads bound in silk handkerchiefs, leather
shoes on our feet, and old gloves on our hands."
Truly, the Mrs. Wheaton of that journey was a
younger woman than most of us have known!

Mr. Wheaton, who had been graduated from
Brown University in 1817, had afterwards studied
law with his father. He gave his time, however,
more to business than to the practice of law, having
an interest in several factories in Norton. He gave
a good deal of time to the public service, "was
elected three times to the State legislature, twice
represented his district in the Governor's Council,
and was a trustee of the State Industrial School for
Girls at Lancaster." These various offices required

[62]

him to be much away from home, but usually Mrs.
Wheaton was the companion of his trips. The
Wheatons passed much time in Boston, sometimes
spending the winter in some hotel there.

It will be seen that Mrs. Wheaton's life was by no
means an empty one even in her early Norton days.
But in 1834 Mrs. Strong died in Boston, leaving no
children, and that was a turning-point in the life
of the Wheaton family.

CHAPTER V
THE FOUNDING OF WHEATON SEMINARY

We know little of Mrs. Strong, but the winning
portrait of her that used to hang in the Wheaton
mansion helps us to understand the overwhelming
grief of her father, then eighty years old, at her loss.
Judge Wheaton's first thought was to raise a costly
monument to her memory. It was then that his
son's young wife gently turned his thoughts to a
nobler memorial — the founding of a high-class
school for girls.

Seventy years later, Miss Clara M. Pike, a teacher
in that Seminary, to whom Mrs. Wheaton was
deeply attached, asked her if the thought of such a
school was first suggested to her by Mrs. Strong's
death. "Oh, no! no!" she said with emphasis, and
added that even before her marriage she had felt
the need of better education for girls. It was, there-
fore, her earnest outlook on life, even in girlhood, her
sincere desire to realize her high ideals, both for her-
self and for other girls, that made her ready for the
opportunity when it came; and, when it came, there
was no flinching from it, though we may doubt if it
was altogether easy for her to make that suggestion

[64]

to the dignified and grief-stricken old man. That
she could make it, and that it was acted upon, speaks
eloquently for the place she had already won for
herself in her husband's family. No doubt it was
her unselfishness that made her plea effective, for in
the end all the portion of Judge Wheaton's pro-
perty that was to have been Mrs. Strong's was
given to the Seminary, whereas, in the natural
course of things, it would have come to Mrs.
Wheaton's own husband, so that in a certain
sense, the money itself may be said to have been the
gift of Mrs. Wheaton. Both Judge Wheaton and
his son yielded completely to her influence in this
matter, and the Seminary became one of the chief
interests in their lives.

Mrs. Wheaton's suggestion was a much more
significant one than it may seem now when large
sums of money are constantly given for the educa-
tion of women. We must not claim too much, but
it is doubtful whether, at that time, there was any-
where in the world a high-class school endowed
expressly for girls, with the exceptions of Adams
Academy in Londonderry, N. H., founded in 1823
with an endowment of four thousand dollars, and
the Abbot Academy at Andover, of which the origi-
nal endowment in 1828 was only one thousand dol-
lars for a building, though, at the death of Mrs.
Sarah Abbot, who gave this money, it received more

[65]

than ten thousand dollars additional. Both these
endowments were much less than that of Judge
Wheaton, for the Act of the Massachusetts Legis-
lature for 1837, by which "Laban M. Wheaton,
Cyrus W. Allen, and Lemuel Perry, their associ-
ates and successors," were made a corporation of
Proprietors of the Seminary, allows "said corpora-
tion to hold real estate to the amount of ten thou-
sand dollars, and personal estate to the amount
of ten thousand dollars, to be devoted exclusively
to purposes of education," and by another Act,
passed in 1839, the corporation was empowered
"to hold real estate to the amount of twenty thou-
sand dollars, and personal estate to the amount of
twenty thousand dollars in addition to the amount "
previously authorized. Of course this does not
prove that Judge Wheaton gave sixty thousand
dollars to the Seminary, but among his papers
still existing is a memorandum showing that he
expected the income of his bequest to be about
four thousand dollars. Two later acts, those of
1890 and 1902, now enable the corporation to hold
property to the value of more than a million dol-
lars. In viewof this, the endowment of 1837 seems
very small, yet in comparison with the funds at the
disposal of other girls' schools of the time, it was
princely.

Of the group of high-class boarding-schools in

[66]

New England that did so much to metamorphose
the education of women there, and sowed so much
of the seed that afterwards bore fruit in women's
colleges, several were in existence when, in 1834,
Mrs. Wheaton made her now famous suggestion.
Bradford Academy was a flourishing school, en-
dowed in 1803, but until 1836 it was a school for
both sexes. The Emma Willard School, nowof Troy,
N. Y., was founded by Mrs. Willard in 18 14, in
Middlebury, Vt., but that was never endowed,
though in 18 19 a portion of the literature fund for
girls' schools in New York was given to it, being
the first known legislative appropriation of money
for the education of girls.

Probably the most influential school for girls
in the country in 1834 was the Ipswich Seminary,
at Ipswich, Mass., which, established for both
sexes, had, in 1828, become a seminary for young
ladies only, under the pioneers. Miss Grant (after-
wards Mrs. Bannister) and Miss Lyon (the two
teachers who had already made the Londonderry
Academy famous). But Ipswich had no endow-
ment; and it was this fact that led Miss Lyon to
undertake the crusade that ended in the opening
of Mt. Holyoke in 1837. It was during this cru-
sade that Mrs. Strong died, and that Wheaton
Seminary was opened in 1835, though not incor-
porated till 1837. There can hardly have been

[67]

any other well-endowed school for girls in the
country at that time, for on February 4, 1832, Miss
Lyon, writing to President Hitchcock of Amherst
College, advocated a plan for a "permanent fe-
male seminary," in these words: "What perma-
nent female seminaries are now in existence ?
What one in New England, of a high character,
is necessarily, from its plan, destined to outlive
its present teachers ?"

Furthermore, in 1834, "there was not in any
State of our Union a Normal School," — that at
Lexington, Mass., afterwards removed to Framing-
ham, was opened in 1839, — "or in any town or
city a High School for the education of girls."
The only opportunities girls then had for educa-
tion were in the district schools, the academies, and
a few admirable private schools.

In view of these facts, Mrs. Wheaton's thought
was certainly the thought of a pioneer. Now the
great movement for the higher education of women
everywhere, which is one of the most far-reaching
in its effects of all the great movements of the nine-
teenth century, began in the United States, and
not only in the United States, but in New England.
So that the modest young woman who suggested
the endowment of Wheaton Seminary was, uncon-
sciously to herself, giving efficient help in a cause
that has raised the standard of life all over the world.

[68]

But we know less than we should Hke to know
about Mrs. Wheaton's part in founding the Sem-
inary. When, in 1885, Miss Lucy Larcom wrote
her beautiful semicentennial sketch of Wheaton
Seminary, she wrote at Norton, under the eye of
Mrs. Wheaton herself. The teachers of the time
remember with some amusement how, again and
again, Mrs. Wheaton returned the pages Miss
Larcom submitted to her, with a line drawn
through them wherever her own name was men-
tioned. Even in speaking of her original suggestion,
Miss Larcom was only allowed to say, "One who
stood very near to him [Judge Wheaton] and
shared his grief, said, 'Why not make it a living
monument?'" From first to last, Mrs. Wheaton
always shrunk from anything that could in any way
detract from the honor due to " Father Wheaton."

As soon as a seminary had been determined
upon, Miss Lyon was invited to Norton for con-
sultation as to its plans. She became deeply inter-
ested in it, and spent much of the year 1835 at
Norton, though, being pledged to the school soon
to be opened at South Hadley, she could not take
a permanent position at Wheaton.

It may be asked why was not Judge Wheaton's
gift made to Mt. Holyoke, then in sore need of an
endowment ? It is true the schools at South Had-
ley and Norton had in common the great aim of

[69]

providing a broad and thorough Christian educa-
tion for young women, yet their specific aims were
a Httle different. Miss Lyon was greatly impressed
with the need of training teachers, there being at
that time so few women competent to teach that
the demand for the Ipswich graduates was far
in excess of the supply. She believed, indeed, that
the training that would make a good teacher
would also be good training for a woman in any
walk of life, but her chief interest was in teachers.
To reduce the expense of the training to meet the
needs of capable women with small means, she
proposed that the pupils should do the housework
of the institution, and in that way, she actually
succeeded in bringing the cost for board and tui-
tion down to sixty dollars a year!

The Wheatons also believed in the thorough
training that would fit women for teachers, and
Wheaton Seminary has sent out a very large num-
ber of high-class teachers, the accomplished lady
who is now the President of the Seminary that has
become Mt. Holyoke College being herself a
Wheaton graduate. But the Wheatons were most
interested in that large class of girls, much larger
proportionally then than now, who would spend
their lives chiefly in their own homes, and they
greatly desired to make the school of value to the
girls of their own town.

[70]

As no scheme of domestic training was arranged
at Norton, the expenses of the school were greater
than at South Hadley, but they were within the
reach of the daughters of professional men in the
country towns — ministers, doctors, lawyers, and
schoolmasters, and large numbers of such girls
availed themselves of this opportunity for educa-
tion, giving a high moral and intellectual tone to
the school. There were so many good private
schools in the larger cities at this time, that the
seminaries drew chiefly from the country; but at
Norton there was always a contingent from Bos-
ton, New York, and other large cities. These girls,
together with the daughters of manufacturers and
merchants all over the country, and, up to the Civil
War, the daughters of rich Southerners, being
accustomed to more luxury than the others, added
certain graces and refinements to the boarding-
school life that could not well be missed. The
organization of the school was thoroughly demo-
cratic, the rich and the poor meeting together in
perfect equality, and a girl's standing depended
solely on herself.

It was the purpose of the school to mould all
these heterogeneous materials into noble, refined,
useful women. At a recent meeting of the Wheaton
Club in Boston, an old lady was asked if she could
give us any reminiscences of Mrs. Wheaton for

[71]

this book. She replied, "Why, no. To tell the
truth, I was a very naughty little girl, sent to
Wheaton to keep me out of harm's way, and I
did n't know Mrs. Wheaton very well, though I
remember she was always kind to the girls and
invited them to visit her, very often. But, you see,
I was very naughty. I remember meeting Mr.
Wheaton once on the sidewalk in front of the
Seminary, and he said, *I hear you are a very
naughty little girl. But cheer up! You'll do well
by and by.' I am not very good now, but every-
thing in me that is worth while I owe to Wheaton
Seminary." This anecdote is not told as character-
istic of Mr. Wheaton. He seldom spoke to any
school-girl, and when he did speak, it was usually
with ceremony and dignity. But it is character-
istic of the spirit of the school. Sometimes there
were naughty girls in the school — occasionally
a very naughty girl. But it was always expected
that she would be better. The teachers, and most
of the girls, too, were always trying to help her to
be better, and a very large number of the pupils
grew to noble womanhood.

A bundle of unpublished letters of Miss Lyon
to the Wheatons, in reference to the founding of
the school, has lately been given to the Seminary
by Mrs. Mary Chapin Smith. From the first of
these, dated Ipswich, July 3, 1834, we quote Miss

[72]

Lyon's description of Miss Caldwell (afterwards
Mrs. Cowles), the teacher whom, in response to
Mr. Wheaton's request for advice, she was recom-
mending for the new school: —

" Miss Caldwell v/ishes to devote herself to the
business of teaching, not to promote mainly her
own interests and happiness, but to promote the
present and future and eternal welfare of the rising
generation. She does not wish to engage in any
place without knowing so much of the situation
as to know that it would be favorable for the pro-
motion of these objects. If she should, after further
consideration, think favorably of the plan of labor-
ing in your place, before any decision is formed, I
think it advisable that she should visit your place
and learn what she can on the spot, which she
could not learn in any other way.

"I rejoice that your father has decided to go for-
ward in this benevolent undertaking. May he live
to see great and good results, and have abundant
cause to thank God that this was put into his
heart. And may you, sir, live to see greater things
than his eyes shall behold, and may you ever bless
our Heavenly Father, who has given to your dear
and honored father a heart to care for those be-
yond his own household. Such a spirit in a father

[ n \

is a rich legacy to children, which cannot be esti-
mated by riches and gold."

Further correspondence proving favorable to
the engagement of Miss Caldw^ell, Miss Lyon sub-
mitted a plan for the school to the Trustees. It con-
tains seven articles. No pupils under 14 w^ere to
be admitted (the age w^as afterwards changed to
13). Board w^as not to exceed that at Ipswich,
which, including washing and lights (fuel extra),
was 1^1.75 a week. (That the sum jfinally fixed
upon was $i.6yy helps us to realize how very
closely calculations were made in those days for
the expenses of girls who were not in any sense
charity scholars, but who belonged to families in
fairly easy circumstances.) Only two pupils were
to share a room. The length of terms, price of
tuition, etc., were other points fixed.

Miss Caldwell had already been four years a
teacher at Ipswich, and one of the articles in Miss
Lyon's paper reads: —

"The school is to be conducted on the same
general principles as Ipswich Female Seminary.
This is in compliance with the request of Mr.
Wheaton, and in accordance with the wishes of
Miss Caldwell. As it could not be expected that
the Board of Trustees should devote the time
requisite to become acquainted with the plans of
the Ipswich Female Seminary, it is proposed that

[74]

under their general oversight, the responsibility
of the course of instruction and mode of govern-
ment, the formation and execution of the plans
of the school, be committed directly to Miss Cald-
well, till the system pursued shall be tested to
the satisfaction of the Trustees."

How much more important the welfare of the
school seemed to ladies like Miss Lyon and Miss
Caldwell than the rewards to be looked for by the
teacher is revealed by the fact that Miss Caldwell's
salary is the last point mentioned, and in these
terms, it having been premised that no rent should
be paid for the schoolhouse Judge Wheaton was
now building: —

" Miss Caldwell is to receive the tuition for com-
pensation, and is to be responsible for all expenses
connected with the school." The tuition had been
placed at $5 for each of the four terms of eleven
weeks each, and the number of scholars was an
entirely unknown quantity, facts which empha-
size the intrepidity of Miss Caldwell!

December 23, Miss Lyon writes earnestly against
a proposition to allow four pupils to occupy one
room. She also speaks wisely of the great respon-
sibilities of a teacher who boards in a family with
her pupils, — for the first boarding-house belonging
to the Seminary was not built till the second year
of the school.

[ 75 ]

February 25, 1835, she writes again on this
point, explaining Miss Caldwell's great reluctance
to take the responsibility of boarding with the
pupils, but saying also that as both Miss Grant
and herself felt this to be important. Miss Cald-
well would probably yield to their judgment. She
continues : —

"When a teacher boards with so many scholars,
and takes so much responsibility, which all other
families must take on themselves, and which really
belongs to those who receive the boarders, it is
common to grant some favor in return, and I think
it would be just and suitable. Some families here
would have been willing to give a teacher her
board if they could have had the privilege of
having one in the family. I do not know what
Miss Caldwell will think about this, but I should
propose only that they should always furnish Miss
Caldwell a room alone^ and expect to do more
errands for her than they would for the young ladies,
and perhaps furnish a little more and better furniture
for her than for the young ladies, and that her
board should be the same price [as that] of the
others. This would be reasonable, and no family
who will look at it will complain. Miss Caldwell
will be satisfied with whatever will be for the best
good of the school, and what will be best for her
successor. But it appears to me that any less

[76]

favors granted in the boarding-house to the prin-
cipal of the Seminary would operate against the
reputation of the institution, and against obtaining
an able teacher to be at the head of the institution.

" I have read this to Miss Grant, and requested
her opinion, and she says that these favors the
teachers ought by all means to receive, and at
least one more, which I forgot to mention — that
the principal should at any time feel at liberty to
receive a friend as a visitor several days, to occupy
the chamber with herself without charge. ... At
first Miss Grant queried whether it would not be
more suitable that Miss Caldwell should receive
some pecuniary compensation, besides the extra
privileges which I have enumerated. But on the
whole, we are agreed that we would request
nothing but these favors, but that these would be
justf as well as suitable."

This catalogue of the perquisites a principal
may justly expect may strike us as naive, but it
shows us the stuff of which the founders of Wheaton
Seminary were made.

In March, Miss Lyon prepared the prospectus
of the new school, to be inserted in the papers: —

WHEATON FEMALE SEMINARY

A school by this name will be opened this Spring
in Norton. A commodious building has been

[77]

erected by the liberality of the Hon. Laban
Wheaton, and the following gentlemen have been
appointed Trustees: Laban Wheaton of Nor-
ton; Rev. Sylvester Holmes of Nev^ Bedford; Rev.
Orin Fowler of Fall River; Rev. Erastus Maltby,
and Dea. William Reed of Taunton; Mr. Jona-
than Bliss of Attleboro; Lemuel Perry, Esq., and
L. M. Wheaton, Esq., of Norton.

It is designed that the general character of this
School shall be similar to that of the Ipswich
Female Seminary. It is well known that the Sem-
inary at Ipswich is rendered much more pleasant
and profitable to adult young ladies by the ex-
clusion of younger misses. As schools adapted
to the wants of little girls are so much more numer-
ous than those designed particularly to benefit
young ladies of mature age, it is believed that the
rejection of younger scholars will render this new
institution a greater blessing to the community,
even though the number of pupils should in con-
sequence be much smaller at first. None will
therefore be received into the School under thir-
teen years of age. Miss Eunice Caldwell, who
has been a teacher several years in the Ipswich
Female Seminary, will take charge of the School.
Competent assistance will be furnished when
needed.

The Summer Term will commence on Tuesday,

[78]

April 22, and continue twenty-two weeks, with
a recess of three days in the middle of the term.
Pupils will be received at the commencement and
at the middle of each term.

Terms. — Board, including washing and lights,
will generally be ^1.67 per week, and in no family
will it exceed ^1.75, to be paid at the close of each
half term. Tuition will be ^10 for a term of twenty-
two weeks — ^5 of which is to be paid at the
commencement of each half term.

The Trustees will engage good boarding-places
for all the applicants that make the request. Only
two young ladies will occupy the same chamber.
Applications for admission into the School, as well
as for board, may be addressed to the Secretary
of the Board of Trustees. Several young ladies
can be received into the family in which the
Teacher boards, and all the pupils will be under
her care at their boarding-houses as well as in
school. Applications for entrance should be made
as early as possible, and they should be decisive,
so that there may be no difficulty in retaining
good boarding-places.

The same books will generally be used in the
School that are used in the Ipswich Female Semi-
nary. The following is the list of books used in
that institution: —

The Bible; Worcester's Abridgment of Webster,

[79]

or some other English Dictionary; the Eclectic
Reader, by B. B. Edwards; Porter's Rhetorical
Reader; Mrs. Phelps' Botany; Smellie's Philosophy
of Natural History; Woodbridge's Larger Geo-
graphy; Colburn's First Lessons; Adams' New
Arithmetic; Simpson's or Playfair's Euclid; Good-
rich's History of the United States, with Emerson's
Questions ; Smith's and Murray's Grammar ;
Watts on the Mind; Comstock's Natural Philo-
sophy ; Sullivan's Political Class Book ; Worces-
ter's Elements of History, with Goldsmith's
Greece, Rome, and England; Goodrich's Eccle-
siastical History; Abercrombie on the Intellectual
Powers; Nannon's and Whateley's Rhetoric; Com-
stock's Chemistry; Wilkins' Astronomy; Paley's
Natural Theology; Butler's Analogy; Alexander's
Evidences of Christianity, and the American An-
nals of Education.

Young ladies are requested to take with them
any of the above list which they may own; but it
is undesirable that they should purchase before
entering the school. Every one should be sup-
plied on entering the school with an English Dic-
tionary and Modern Atlas. Books and Stationery
can be procured near the Seminary on reasonable
terms.

L. M. Wheaton, Secretary.

Norton, March [15?], 1835.

[80]

This is not a very ambitious program, perhaps,
yet one adapted to teach students to think, espe-
cially on moral questions. Its aim was to give a
sound English education, and it was successful in
its object, even though there was no formal teach-
ing of English literature at that time, it being as-
sumed — and not without warrant — that these
thoughtful young women would read the best
poetry and essays for their own satisfaction with-
out being spurred to do so by a teacher. We know
that caHsthenics were introduced before 1839, and
some of the languages, the piano and vocal music
before 1842.

A draft for the act of incorporation of the Semi-
nary is still in existence in Judge Wheaton's micro-
scopic and almost illegible handwriting, though
it appears never to have been used. It begins:
"Whereas, the promotion of female education is
now considered by the wise and good an object of
high importance to the rising generation," thus
striking clearly the keynote of the new institution.
It makes plain the object of the school, — "the
promotion of piety, religion, and morality, and the
education of females in all branches of Science and
Literature that are suitable and proper for them to
attend to" The italics are our own.

Judge Wheaton's draft emphasizes Miss Lar-
com's statement in her Semicentennial Sketch

[81]

that the movement in New England towards estab-
Hshing better schools for women was noticeably a
religious one. She points to Rev. Joseph Emerson ^
of Beverly as perhaps the most influential among
the pioneers in the work. He established schools
for women at Byfield and at Saugus, Mass., and
at Wethersfield, Conn., and even prepared text-
books for his pupils when needed. He was
a broad-minded man in every way, who lectured
in his own and neighboring parishes on English
poetry, astronomy, etc., before the inauguration
of the Lyceum, and who anticipated the manual
training idea of to-day by sending his sons des-
tined for the ministry to a printer, to learn type-
setting, and to a carpenter, to learn the use of
tools.

More than all, his personal influence inspired
in his pupils an enthusiasm and self-denying effort
that they carried with them through life. Miss
Grant and Mary Lyon were among his pupils,
and through them the seminaries at Derry, "at
Ipswich, at Norton, and at South Hadley may
be traced directly back to his influence, and many
others which with them sprang up all over the
land." Pupils at Ipswich long remembered how

^ A descendant in double lines of the Rev. Joseph Emerson of
Mendon, who died in Concord in 1680, and who was also the
ancestor of Ralph Waldo Emerson.

[82]

Miss Grant and Miss Lyon used to quote, "My
beloved teacher now in heaven." Through the first
three principals at Norton, Miss Caldwell, Miss
Knight, and Miss Vose, — all Ipswich pupils, —
his influence was continued at Norton, while, later,
his son. Rev. Alfred Emerson, married Miss Vose,
and was for many years a trustee of the Seminary.
Their two daughters were both graduates of the
school, and for years among its valued teachers.
A letter from one of these daughters, Miss Frances
Vose Emerson, then in Paris, read at the Wheaton
Memorial Meeting in 1906, furnishes a picture of
the opening of the Seminary, and though a part
of it refers to a later period, it is given below almost
in full.

"It was in 1835, when the Seminary first opened,
that my aunt, Catherine Vose, came to Norton, the
first pupil on the ground. None of the present
boarding-houses were then built, I believe, and the
old Judge and Mrs. Wheaton had given up their
own home, now the Mansion House, for the use of
the girls. The then young Mr. and Mrs. Wheaton
also opened their doors to the girls, and it was
accordingly to Mrs. Wheaton's own house that my
aunt was brought by her brother, and, with the
abundant hospitality of those days, which would
seem a little unusual in similar circumstances now,
the brother was invited to spend the night at Mrs.

[83]

Wheaton's. It was a pleasant home that Mrs.
Wheaton made for those first girls, albeit with a
little more formality than one would find now.
Were they not the first girls, and were they not
making the precedents for generations of girls to
come ?

"It was several years after this that my mother
was at Norton as teacher and afterwards as prin-
cipal. The Seminary was young then, it was living
through the first stages of childhood, and it was
with much solicitude that Mrs. Wheaton watched
over those critical years. Certainly I judge that
she knew more of the details of everyday life than
afterward. In a slight fire that broke out, Mrs.
Wheaton herself rushed over, — if you can imagine
Mrs. Wheaton rushing, — and, going from room to
room, saw that the girls put down their open win-
dows. It was in those early days of the Seminary
that Mrs. Wheaton, then a young woman, formed
those friendships with the young women who were
the early principals and teachers which proved
lifelong. Together they planned and prayed for the
young school. Nor was their life so wholly serious
that they had no time for a little fun, and many a
quiet little joke they enjoyed together. Indeed, I
think few realized how keen was Mrs. Wheaton's
sense of the ludicrous.

" Mrs. Wheaton had the calm, undemonstrative

[84]

nature of the typical New England woman, but
the durability of those friendships, which lasted
for sixty years and over, proved the strength and
depth of her affection. With none of those early
friends, perhaps, did the friendship continue so
tender and intimate as with Mrs. Beane (Miss
Knight), 'Lady Beane,' as Mrs. Wheaton used
playfully and lovingly to call her.

" After my mother left Norton, family cares in a
measure separated her from Mrs. Wheaton, but
when, after more than twenty years, my mother
brought my sister to school, the two friends met as
if they had been apart only a day, and from that
time a confidential, almost sisterly intimacy existed
between them.

" One of my own pleasantest memories is of a
week I spent with Mrs. Wheaton during my school
days. I had not been well, and she watched over
me with motherly care. I used to find a bunch of
delicious Hamburg grapes — were there ever such
delicious Hamburgs as grew in her grapery ? —
in my room every day.

" How wide was Mrs. Wheaton's anniversary
hospitality in my school days, when all our family
and our friends as well were welcomed! Will any
one who knew Mrs. Wheaton in the sixties and
seventies forget those June days when one walked
up the broad flagstones between the rows of box

[85]

to find Mrs. Wheaton at the door, still alert and
vigorous, with radiant smile of welcome that fairly-
transformed her face ? How delightful the cool,
spacious hall, the shaded parlors, the dining-table,
with its delicious strawberries and shining silver,
where Mrs. Wheaton presided and Mrs. Beane
sat opposite to serve! How Mrs. Beane used to
enjoy her quiet fun at Mrs. Wheaton's caution,
because she wished to start for the railroad station
in time to go back for another carriage if there was
a breakdown, and because she cleared a place in
the cellar to be prepared for another tornado! ^

"Another side of Mrs. Wheaton's character came
out through my father's connection with the Semi-
nary as Trustee and Treasurer. Her well-ordered
accounts and systematic bookkeeping surprised
even his methodical and mathematical mind. Her
well-balanced judgment, that looked at all sides
before deciding ; that generosity and modesty that
never let the right know what the left hand did ;
and rarest of all qualities, perhaps, in a character

^ In this connection may be mentioned the remark of a lady
who, as a child fifty years ago, was a near neighbor of Mrs.
Wheaton: "A. and I recall her habit of saying that she had
spent some of the happiest hours of her life waiting in railroad
stations." Probably her enjoyment came from her interest in
people, for she was a close observer, though the certainty of
not missing her train was undoubtedly a satisfaction to one
so cautious that, as a niece writes, "in going to drive, a rope
and tools, in case of accident, were always in the carriage."

[86]

so forceful as Mrs. Wheaton's, that withholding
of herself which suggested but did not dictate;
these were some of the qualities which were evident
to the trustees.

" But that which was the keynote of Mrs. Whea-
ton's character was her loyalty to her Master. The
family prayers, the feeling of being only the stew-
ard of her wealth, the constant question, 'What
would Christ have me to do .'" revealed the secret
of her life. The more closely one knew her, the
more clearly one saw the reality and beauty of her
faith."

The leading facts connected w^th the early de-
velopment of the school are beautifully told in
Miss Larcom's Semicentennial Sketch, especially
the part taken in it by the venerable Judge Whea-
ton, who lived to be 92 years old, and who gave
the diplomas to the graduates "with his own
trembling hands" in his 92d year, in 1845, ten
years after the school was founded. Miss Larcom
was somewhat hampered in writing, however, as
all the ten ladies who had then held the position
of Principal as Wheaton Seminary were living at
the time she wrote, and, in her own words, it would
not have been "in good taste to pass their merits
in review before their own eyes." Nevertheless,
she has left us an inspiring picture of the life of
the school in those days. Most of these women

[87]

have now passed on, but no one is left who can tell
their story from personal knowledge.

However, among Mrs. Wheaton's papers were
several sketches evidently written for the 25th and
50th anniversaries of the Seminary, and one of
these, unsigned, was written by one of the first
pupils. She says: —

"I remember well on a dull Monday morning
of April, 1835, the gathering, for the first time, of
the pupils in Wheaton Seminary. The bell called
us. We were met at the Seminary door by Miss
Smith, one of the teachers, and shown where to
put our bonnets, and directed to take our seats in
the schoolroom. The desks — those of the teachers
as well as the others — were straight up and down
boards. Two settees were on the platform for trus-
tees. Two or three blackboards formed the back-
ground, with not a chalk mark to mar the blackness.
[Another sketch says only two pieces of chalk had
been provided.] Our faces — perhaps they were
young and bright — were certainly leaden in aspect.
" As the bell ceased ringing, Miss Caldwell and
the other teachers. Miss Smith and Miss Chicker-
ing, came in. Miss Caldwell's cheery ' Good morn-
ing, young ladies,' gave us some courage as we
began to look about at her and at each other. Miss
C. read from God's word and asked his blessing,
present and future, for the school.

[ 88 ]

" One by one we were called to the desk, where
we gave our names and ages, the name of each
being given in turn to the school. Then came a
recess of ten minutes, and our acquaintance and
friendships began. Think of those girls [one sketch
says there were 39 of them], all strangers to each
other, except in a few instances, going out into that
sandy yard where grew no shrub, nor flower, nor
even a blade of grass! . . . There was no ap-
paratus and no library [another sketch says that
the townspeople contributed some philosophical
apparatus soon after, and that the Ipswich girls
gave ;^50 for the same purpose; while the first
books towards the formation of a library were
given by the elder Mrs. Wheaton, and the first
piano by our own Mrs. Wheaton, and the younger
Mr. Wheaton soon provided excellent desks and
chairs]; but we were patiently and thoroughly
taught. Miss Caldwell had a class in grammar, —
a stupid one, too, when she took it, — but we
mastered [our lessons]. Perhaps one of the girls
expressed the reason of our success when she said:
*I do believe I shall learn to like even grammar,
if I recite to Miss Caldwell.' . . . None of us
who boarded at Mrs. Wheaton's can forget her
warm interest and generous hospitality; she, as
well as Miss Caldwell, used frequently to remind
us that the future character of the school would

[89]

very much depend on what our conduct in school,
in the boarding-house, in church, and in the street
should be during that first summer, and to expect
us to do our best at all times, and so give a name
to the school we should be willing to own. . . .

" The pupils felt that Miss Caldwell was gov-
erned in her life, acts, and requirements by the
purest and highest motives, which, joined with her
kindness, firmness, and consistency in the con-
duct of affairs, won for her admiring respect and
enthusiastic regard. She was the friend of her
pupils. She helped them in their difficulties, coun-
selled them in their perplexities, and homesick
little girls felt the healing balm of her sympathy.
All knew that the spiritual welfare of her pupils
was her deepest concern."

One of Mrs. Cowles's (Miss Caldwell's) own
letters to Mrs. Wheaton, dated i860, gives us a
picture of Mrs. Wheaton herself in the early days
of the school.

*' Ah, I have seen you, dear Mrs. Wheaton, in the
most pinching weather, leave that sweet parlor that
never knows a winter, and, wrapped in garments
suited to the sleet and the storm, cross over to the
boarding-house, to see and know whether all proper
arrangements were made for the comfort of the
inmates. Have I not seen you once, twice, and
thrice, take to your own charming home, even to

[90]

the house Beautiful, the weary and dispirited
Principal, lodge her in that chamber whose window
looks toward the sun-rising, and that may be fitly
named Peace, and there watch and tend her with
all a sister's love ? You may have forgotten all
this; I have not."

Miss Caldwell, having been previously pledged
to help Miss Lyon at Mt. Holyoke, left Norton
when the new Seminary was opened in 1837. That
she took with her the love and sympathy of the
Norton girls is seen by the following entries found
in an account book in Miss Lyon's handwriting
at Mt. Holyoke : —

"October, 1837. Cash from teachers and pupils
in the Wheaton Female Seminary, towards fur-
nishing parlor, ^100.00."

"November. Cash from teachers and pupils of
Wheaton Female Seminary, to complete the fur-
nishing of parlor, ;^i35.oo." Miss Larcom adds, in
connection with this entry, "The amount collected
was certainly a large one for that time, and for a
Seminary just beginning its own life; and the
record is especially interesting as showing the
sympathy of the two schools in their common
work." Miss Eliza R. Knight, another Ipswich
graduate, followed Miss Caldwell in 1838, and
under her, in 1839, the first senior class was grad-
uated. In 1840, Miss Knight resigned to become

[91]

the wife of the Rev. Samuel Beane. She was suc-
ceeded by her friend, already a teacher in the
school, Miss Martha E. W. Vose, another of the
famous Ipswich group. She, too, resigned after two
years, becoming the wife of the Rev. Alfred Emer-
son. Miss Martha C. Sawyer held the position of
Principal from 1842 to 1846. She is still living (Feb-
ruary, 1907), and it was hoped she would be able
to contribute some reminiscences to this volume;
but her age and infirmities prevent. This is par-
ticularly to be regretted, for Miss Sawyer was one
of the earliest graduates of Wheaton Seminary,
and as a girl she was almost like a daughter to
Mrs. Wheaton. The close friendship between
the two was maintained to the very end of Mrs.
Wheaton's life. Miss Sawyer married the Rev.
Franklin Holmes, who was for some years settled
in Norton, and she was long a near neighbor of
the Wheatons, her home being in what is known
as Holmes Cottage, now a part of the Seminary
foundation.

Miss Sawyer was followed by Miss Elizabeth A.
Gate (Mrs. William Barrows) from 1847 to 1849.
We are so fortunate as to have in her handwriting
a short paper, written for the Wheaton Memorial
Meeting in 1906, she being then in her 83d year.
It is a significant fact that Mrs. Wheaton and each
of the first five principals of the school all lived to

[92]

a great age, and all were active and useful mem-
bers of society till long past 80, a fact that speaks
volumes for their vitality and strength of character.
Mrs. Barrows's paper is called, —

A VERY FEW REMINISCENCES OF THE OLD
DAYS AT WH EATON

It was in the February of 1847 that I first met
Mrs. Wheaton. Previously I had heard much of
her through Miss Martha Vose, whom I knew inti-
mately at Bradford Academy, and who was once
a beloved and honored principal of Wheaton
Seminary. ... I had not been particularly im-
pressed by what I had heard of Mrs. Wheaton;
up to this time she had been to me only a name,
but, at once, I knew her for a remarkable woman.
A short time before this interview, I had been
invited by the Trustees of Wheaton Seminary to
take the position of Principal, and had declined.
I supposed that the question was definitely and
finally settled; but I had reckoned without — Mrs.
Wheaton!

She was not in strong health, yet she had come
to Boston on this inclement winter's day to try
and induce me to reverse my decision. She made
no labored appeal, but gave a plain statement of
facty and need, and opportunity. She did not dis-
guise any feature of the situation, acknowledging

[93]

frankly its difficulties, but drew a glowing picture
of what might be accomplished if the right course
were taken.

I forget the arguments used, tho' I suppose they
had their effect; but I remember well the persua-
sive and earnest tones of her voice, the sweet dignity
and graciousness of her manner, and the indomi-
table spirit that shone through all. In the glamour
of her presence and personality all obstacles seemed
to disappear. In her vocabulary there was no such
word as '*fail," and of course I yielded. What
could I do but lower my colors to a superior force ?

I began my labors in April, 1847. The school
was not in a prosperous condition, its numbers
had decreased, its prestige was declining from un-
known causes. For a while it was uphill work for
new teachers, and might have been disheartening
but for Mrs. Wheaton's zeal and courage. She
was always ready with words of cheer and of wise
counsel, as well as with material help. I can see
her alert figure coming across from her home to
inquire if we "needed anything;" every want was
foreseen and provided for, nothing escaped her
vigilance, and though not very strong, her abound-
ing vitality seemed equal to all demands. . . .
You of to-day, basking in the sunshine of pros-
perity which has beamed on you for so many years,
can scarcely realize the conditions of those far-off

[94]

days. But the ship did not founder — for Mrs.
Wheaton was on the quarter-deck. Under her
fostering care success was bound to come. The
waning enterprise revived and grew apace. In
1849 a new building was erected on the old site,
which gave an added impetus [to the school]. . . .

Yes, Mrs. Wheaton was a rare woman. Seldom
have been found so many fine qualities united in
one individual. Practical and sensible, yet with
lofty ideals and aspirations and enthusiasms; with
deep and fervent piety, a kind and generous heart;
unity of purpose, and devotion to the interests of
others, she was always beloved and honored.

The school, the beloved institution, was her life^
and in the years to come, her name and memory
will be an inspiration to all the [daughters] of
Wheaton.

This letter shows how active Mrs. Wheaton's
influence was in shaping the school even in the
days when Judge Wheaton and his son were still
living. Miss Cate married Rev. William Barrows,
who was settled in Norton. She was succeeded by
Miss Margaret Mann, who remained only one
year, later becoming Mrs. Thomas Rice.

CHAPTER VI

THE DIARIES

For many years Mrs. Wheaton kept a diary. The
diaries from 1850 to her death in 1905 were in-
cluded among the private papers she left to her
niece, Mrs. Smith, by will, and some of them have
been available for this book. This minute record
of her life for so many years, with scarcely a blank
day, is in itself a monument to her careful, method-
ical character. Every page is crowded with entries,
laconically expressed. While few of the entries
are of much interest taken alone, all together give
the reader a vivid picture of Mrs. Wheaton's life
that could hardly have been painted in any other
way. As it would be impossible, within the limits
of this book, to give a sufficient number of extracts
to bring out that picture clearly, it seems best here
to make a short summary of the main features of
these diaries.

It will be almost incredible to many of the
alumnae that Mrs. Wheaton's chief interest in
life was not the Seminary. It became so in her
later years, but in the fifties and sixties, though it
was already very dear to her, and she gave gen-

[96]

erously of her time and thought to it, it was alto-
gether secondary to her home Hfe. There never
was a woman whose heart was more truly devoted
to her own home and her own family than Mrs.
Wheaton, judging from her diaries. There is
seldom a day when she is not doing something for
her "dear husband," from mending his clothing
with her own skilful hands, or acting as his barber,
or making ready the ribbons for the fine cattle he
was to exhibit at the cattle-shows of which he was
an enthusiastic patron, to taking care of him in his
innumerable attacks of sick headache, or setting
off at a moment's warning for a few days in Bos-
ton, or for a long carriage drive, perhaps to Ver-
mont in search of some new horse. Nor were her
home cares for her husband alone. Her diaries
are full of references to her "dear Matty," who
made her home at the Wheatons for several years
previous to her marriage, and who was equally an
object of solicitude to Mrs. Wheaton when settled
with her husband and children, subsequently, in
Holmes Cottage.

In the early days of the diaries, the family of
Mrs. Wheaton's beloved youngest brother, General
Samuel Austin Chapin, were living close beside
her, while her brother himself was making his way
among the California pioneers, and hardly a day
passes without a reference to her sister-in-law and

[97]

the dear children, Lizzie and Nettie and Ella. The
anguish Mrs. Wheaton shows in her hasty entries
describing the long illness and death of the little
Ella eloquently testifies that she loved these chil-
dren as if they had been her own. She was then
far from well, but she shares all the mother's cares,
even to the night-watches, and every day she finds
some new way to alleviate the suffering.

Her diaries show that her interest in the sick
was not by any means confined to her own rela-
tives. In those days of untrained nurses she often
goes to watch with some neighbor who is ill, and
even sometimes notes that she has prepared a body
for burial.

Her own brothers and sister seem to have been
inexpressibly dear to her. The visiting among
them is constant, her own house is always open to
them, and no expression occurs more frequently in
her diaries than this, such a one "came, to my
great joy."

She keeps an account of letters received and
written, and their number is legion.

Her hospitality is unbounded. Her large house
is always full, often of people who had little claim
upon her.

Norton is a small village, but Mrs. Wheaton's
list of callers is as formidable as that of any woman
of society in a great metropolis. Day after day,

[98]

from morning till evening, they are shown by her
record to have come to her by the dozen. And day
after day, she chronicles a long list of calls made
in return. And these were all real calls, no proxies
by card being even dreamed of. It really seems as
if she must have had a personal interest in every
man, woman, and child in the township of Nor-
ton, for her acquaintances are not all found in the
village, — she is constantly driving to the cop-
per-works, to the Newcombs', and round Bowen
Square in quest of one and another.

If other callers fail, a group of Seminary teach-
ers happen in to spend the evening. All the names
so dear to the alumnse appear again and again, —
Miss Cragin, Miss Larcom, Miss Blair, Miss Cole,
Miss Carter, Miss Bourne, Miss Windsor, Miss
Cutler, and oftenest of all, perhaps. Miss Melius,
of whom Mrs. Wheaton once notes, " Miss Melius
called, as she often kindly does."

"Dec. 17, 1852. Mrs. Metcalf in, and helped
me wipe dishes"! One of her first entries in regard
to Mrs. Metcalf is, "Mrs. Metcalf reminds me of
Miss Lyon." (My own father, of whose family
Miss Lyon was a member in her school days at
Ashfield, remarked the same resemblance.) May
15, 1851, Mrs. \\^eaton records: "Mrs. Metcalfs
mother to dine."

The tea parties she gives to ten, twenty, thirty,

[99]

and sometimes as many as seventy of her neighbors,
must have taxed her own strength as vv^ell as that
of her staff of servants severely, for there is no hint
of caterers in those early days. Mrs. Wheaton
never hesitated to put her own efficient hand to any
work to be done, and she understood all the mys-
teries of baking, churning, preserving, pickhng,
making sausage meat, etc., etc., as well as if she
had had no other occupations in life. A neighbor
dies on Thanksgiving Day, 1859. Mrs. Wheaton
is there to help. Buys meat and makes cake for
the funeral. April 28, i860, she frosts fifteen loaves
of cake for a May-Day tea party of two hundred
people at the church.

When her servants deserted her — for even
Mrs. Wheaton was not without her trials with
servants, though her comments upon them are
brief — she apparently at once took all their
work upon her own shoulders, and her husband
and visitors were still as well provided for as if all
had gone smoothly in the kitchen.

There are few complaints of her servants in
these diaries. Of one servant she mentions a "flare
up," and adds, "O for a quiet, wise spirit," and
the next day she notes a "talk" with the offender.
Yet Mrs. Wheaton's spirit was not of the kind that
is easily ruled. She could be very angry. If her
whole nature had not been filled to overflowing

[ 100 ]

with love, her very integrity of character, her scorn
of all shirking of duty, of insincerity, of v^^eak
yielding to temptation, would have made her a
harsh woman. Mrs. Smith says: "Her anger was
different from that of most people. Slight displea-
sure sometimes manifested itself in an accession
of dignity and formality, but when at rare intervals,
after a slow accumulation of wrath, she was really
angry, the severity of her mien and the unapproach-
able dignity of her person, to which were added a
few well chosen words of unmistakable portent,
were simply overwhelming. It is but fair to say
that it was generally righteous indignation, called
forth only by a serious grievance, or what reason-
ably appeared to her as such. Her forbearance
was much more remarkably in evidence, as well
as her constant watchfulness and effort for the
comfort and happiness of those around her."

Once, her diary reports, her cook gets "tipsy"
and departs for Boston. A week later she returns
penitent and Mrs. Wheaton forgives her, but two
or three months hence is forced to dismiss her, on
which occasion, the entry for the day concludes,
"I very tired and unwell." Of one servant, whom
she had to discharge, she remarks grimly, "Enjoy
absence of S. after 5J years." In general, her notes
referring to her servants breathe the deepest in-
terest in them. She employed a colored man and

[ loi]

his wife some time in the fifties, and reports them
as satisfactory in the main, but grieves that they
do not go to church. She seems to have persuaded
them to mend their v^ays, for later she frequently

mentions w^ith satisfaction, " and went

to church to-day." Again and again, on her visits
to Boston, she records, "went to see Caty," — a
former servant. Once she writes, "Have felt tried
about the unfaithfulness of those in our employ."
July 23, i860, her day is full of hard work. Among
other things she helps her man, Louis, to make
butter. Louis is taken ill, and, tired as she is, she
is up three times in the night to give him medicine.
October 8, 1855, she mentions taking one of the
maids to drive to gather chestnuts. She remembers
not only her own servants but those at the Semi-
nary, and in June invites a large party of them to
eat strawberries.

One striking fact about the diaries is their record
of the amount of solid hard work Mrs. Wheaton
does herself, — the sweeping, the dusting, and
even the washing of windows. Perhaps her per-
sonal labors account for the shining, sparkling
neatness of the whole house. She is always "clear-
ing out the attic," or putting a closet in order, or
making up packages of one thing or another to
send away. Mrs. Smith, speaking of the number-
less details to which she gave her attention, says:

[ 102 ]

"For all this mastery of detail, there was also the
larger grasp, the wider vision which could take in
the whole, whether in household regulations or
outside affairs of greater scope. A letter exists in
which she gives a not unjust, but curious estimate
of women, which we may hope is growing less true
as time goes on. ' Ladies in general concentrate
their energies on some one object of effort, and
are persistent that it shall be prosecuted as they
think best, where gentlemen usually have many
objects for which to care, and have broader views.
I may be mistaken in this opinion, and I know it
does not apply to all ladies; I know of some beauti-
ful exceptions.' She herself was certainly one of the
exceptions."

The diaries record a vast amount of sewing,
often including heavy mending. She is, of course,
one of the first to avail herself of the newly-invented
sewing machine. Then others must be benefited
by it. "Stitching bosoms, collars, and wristbands
for Lizzy, most of the day," is one of many elo-
quent little entries in this connection. She appears
not only to have bought but to have made much
of the boarding-house linen herself, leaving the
marking of it, however, to Mrs. Holmes and Miss
Windsor (which will recall to the alumnae Miss
Windsor's beautiful handwriting). She is generous
even with the sewing machine itself. "Matty"

[ 103 ]

comes and uses it whenever she chooses. Once,
Mrs. Wheaton sends it for "Matty" to use for four
weeks in her own home.

It will be seen that the Seminary did not fill her
whole mind, in spite of the linen, but her lively
interest in it is attested by innumerable entries.
No one can forget the expression of ardent interest
in her face on examination days. Her diary records
every examination day that ever occurred, some-
times with comments on the recitations or compo-
sitions. She is in constant consultation with Mrs.
Metcalf in regard to the welfare of the school. She
and Mrs. Metcalf work together to formulate that
famous printed code of rules tacked up in every
room when the "new" boarding-house of 1856
was built. She selects most of the furniture herself.
It is she who sees to the cleaning of the boarding-
houses in vacations, and to the trimming and
sometimes the cutting of the trees on the lawn.

No wonder that her entries so often close with
the words, "Very weary;" for in the fifties and
sixties Mrs. Wheaton was not at all well. She was
under a doctor's care. She had undergone a dan-
gerous surgical operation in 1850. Her entries in re-
gard to this tell a heroic story. Sunday, November 3,
she reports going to church all day. "It was com-
munion season, and I could but feel that it might
be the last I should attend on earth. O for a fitness

[ 104 ]

to sit down in that kingdom above!" On Mon-
day she packs grapes, goes to a church meeting,
and attends to the trimming of her bonnet. On
Tuesday, works again on the grapes, puts things
to rights in the attic, and packs for New York,
leaving home about 4 o'clock with her husband
and "Matty" for Stonington, where they took the
boat. On Wednesday, they rested in New York,
and Mr. Wheaton had one of his sick headaches,
but there is no word of her own feelings. On
Thursday came the consultation with the special-
ist. The time for the operation was finally settled
for November 30. After the consultation she did
shopping, and later went to hear Jenny Lind. "I
was not disappointed in her voice." Then they go
home, and she resumes her usual labors, making
no allusion to the trial before her. She even has
a parlor and bedroom painted in the interval of
waiting. She does sewing, attends the Seminary
examinations, takes a very great interest in a
revival at the Seminary, and goes to West Rox-
bury for a Thanksgiving reunion at her brother
Judson's. "Thursday, Nov. 28. A rainy Thanks-
giving, but very pleasant. Mary, Willard, and
Netty came last evening. So we have quite a
family gathering." That is the whole entry. Yet
the next day she started for New York. "Satur-
day, Nov. 30. A pleasant day. — Saturday morning

[ 105]

at 8, arrived safely in Brooklyn and at eleven
o'clock had a surgical operation performed by
Dr. Pov^ers, successfully, skilfully. Grateful that
I am through w^ith it safely."

Though the operation was successful, and she
had no return of the special trouble that had made
it necessary, yet she had many other troubles in
the follow^ing years, especially one with her eyes,
which made her fearful of blindness. For this she
had electrical treatment in Boston for a long time.
Indeed, for many years to come, she seems to
have been seldom out of the hands of one famous
doctor or another for various ills, though she always
relied on Dr. Round, of Norton, and later, on his
son. Dr. Arthur Round, for regular attendance
on herself and all her family.

Her ill-health at this period of her life, together
with many private sorrows and anxieties, seems to
have made a real change in her manner. She ap-
pears to have become much more reserved and
less demonstrative after this time.

We judge this to be so partly from the fact that
the reports of the earlier Seminary pupils dwell
so much more on Mrs. Wheaton's "pleasing"
manners and sociable relations to the schoolgirls,
and so much less on her dignity and reserve than
those of the later students. While her manners
were always pleasing, because of their sincerity

[ io6 ]

and kindness, and while, to the end of her Hfe, her
interest in all the girls as individuals never failed,
yet, after fifty, her personal intercourse with the
schoolgirls was apparently much less intimate
than it had once been. One of the most distin-
guished of the graduates of the early sixties writes
that she knew little about Mrs. Wheaton, except
that Mrs. Metcalf often said, "How should you
like to have Mrs. Wheaton know that you had
done such or such a thing?" so that to her Mrs.
Wheaton was a sort of bugbear, notwithstanding
that she was invariably kind.

Another pupil of the early seventies, who entered
the school at a very early age and continued in it
seven years, says that in all that time she never
had an interview with Mrs. Wheaton. Yet she felt
her debt to Mrs. Wheaton, and on visiting Norton,
later, she called upon her and was cordially re-
ceived, Mrs. Wheaton showing interest in all that
concerned her, and taking her to drive. She con-
cludes : "Think how great an influence Mrs.
Wheaton had on my Hfe, and yet I never spoke
to her while at Norton! The greatest influence in
my life was Norton, yet I did not realize her part
in it till long after my school days were over."

These are only a few of the examples that might
be cited to show that the girls of later days knew
much less of Mrs. Wheaton than the earlier pupils

[ 107 ]

did. There were exceptions, of course, to the rule,
but probably the attitude of mind of most of the
Seminary girls towards Mrs. Wheaton in her
elder years would have been best translated by
addressing her as "Your Most Serene Highness."

The entries in her diaries, too, now become still
more laconic than at first. In the early numbers
she is always speaking of "dear Sister Mary,"
"dear Matty," "my beloved bro. Adolphus,"
"precious bro' Judson," "dear bro' Austin," "my
dear husband," etc., etc. Later, she often omits
the adjective, though there is abundant evidence
that her feelings were as warm as ever.

She always noted anniversaries of all kinds, and
on her birthdays she often makes some special
entry. September 27, 1857, she writes, "Birthday,
48. I would desire to live anew to my Saviour. Oh!
how far along in life's journey! Almost done with
earth." What would she have said if she could
have known that she had then lived barely half
her life, her death occurring only a few months
before her 96th birthday ?

Tired as she was during these days, she never
let her fatigue interfere with her duties. A char-
acteristic entry after one of her great tea parties
reads, "I very tired . . . swept up and looked
tidy as a weary body could." Perhaps we should
say it would have been better for her if she had been

[ 108]

less conscientious and had not "swept up," but
certainly she chose the pathway that led to long
life, and, quite unconscious of all schemes of mental
heahng, she seems to have practised it. No doubt
an unswept room would have so jarred her nerves
as to have tired her more than the sweeping.

The Wheatons passed the winter of 1857-58 in
Boston, Mr. Wheaton being then a member of
the Governor's Council. Mrs. Wheaton writes to
her sister, Mrs. Judson, under the date of February
I, 1858: —

"Tuesday p. m,, 12 ult. when I was just beginning
to put my shoulder to the work of getting ready
to shut up house, the thought was born, 'Can I
take hold and help push forward a social gathering
and raise the 1^225.00' which Mr. Rogerson had
just been telHng us was due from our society and
greatly needed, but [which he] supposed could not
be raised till spring .? While I was thinking it
over, in came Mrs. West. I asked her if she sup-
posed we could be galvanized into life again and
take hold of the affair } Suffice it to say, it went
forward. Notice by an address from a committee
of ladies was read on the next Sabbath, and the
People invited to attend the gathering the next
Wednesday evening at Seminary Hall. A beautiful
evening it was and a beautiful entertainment. In
one room we had all the choice paintings and en-

[ 109 ]

gravings in the neighborhood. They were more
than enough to cover the walls and such as I
should not hesitate to ask city friends to see. In
this room, too, was my drawing of the Victoria
Regia, adjusted on easels and explained by a lady
— admission 5 cts. Another room, partially filled
with pines and other evergreens forming a bower,
and glittering with stars made of gold paper,
was called Sibyl's Cave. Here sat a beautiful
young lady looking as queenly as Zenobia her-
self. She said nothing but handed to those who
entered and approached her a note with some
pleasing or amusing sentence — admission 5 or 6
cents. Our entrance fee was 25 cts. Oysters, pre-
pared in various ways, together with ice cream,,
tea, coffee, cake, etc., made a fine treat for the
appetite. Our greenhouse was stripped of flowers
(which are not numerous at this season of the year)
and made up in tiny bouquets, some of which
were carried round to sell by little Susie, a beau-
tiful little niece of Mrs. Metcalf's. But most of
them were sold at auction — a seminarist acting as
auctioneer. There was a good deal of spirited and
playful bidding. The flowers sold for $6.00.

" God seemed to bless us in everything. We felt
we were doing his work, and committed our way
to him. The net proceeds of the gathering were
$126.1 J f znd the balance was made out by sub-

[ 1.0]

scription, so that the Friday evening following, a
receipt was in our hands for ^225.00, which we
had paid into the Treasury.

"I suppose there never was a time to appeal to
our people when so little money was in their pos-
session/ and yet the effort was crowned with suc-
cess, and more than all the money, such loving
hearts seemed to be awakened!!"

Mrs. Wheaton was deeply interested in all public
affairs, and her diaries are full of allusions to them.
The visit of Kossuth to this country in 1852, the
jubilee in Boston on September 18 of that same
year, on the completion of the first railway to Can-
ada, — a jubilee in which the Wheatons took part,
being on their way home from one of their many de-
lightful carriage trips to the White Mountains, —
the taking of Sevastopol in 1855, Dr. Kane's Arctic
expedition, the visit of the Prince of Wales to the
United States in i860, the death of Prince Albert
in 1861, and scores of similar events figure in these
little books. Her heart was greatly moved by the
slavery question. A well-written letter, from Henry
Box Brown, dated 1849, was preserved by her,
thanking her for a generous gift, aiding him to
buy his wife and children, still in slavery. Follow-

^ It will be remembered that in the winter of 1857-58, a
wave of " hard times" passed over the whole country, pro-
ducing almost a panic.

[ HI]

ing his signature she has written in pencil, "Who
was dehvered from slavery by being packed in a
box and sent off as merchandise."

In 1854, Mrs. Wheaton's diary notes "Nebraska
Bill defeated in the House." In 1855 lectures on
Slavery begin to multiply. "March 28, 1856. Lec-
ture on Kansas. Oh, that God would spare Kansas
from the curse of slavery!" "June 25, Kansas
Meeting at Seminary." July 24, she goes with Mr.
Wheaton to Boston, to the American Convention,
to which he was a delegate. August 5, Mr. Whea-
ton goes to Fremont Club in Norton.

From the entry of January 4, 1861, "National
Fast on account of the South Seceding," to that of
April 10, 1865, when she reports Lee's surrender,
the allusions to public events are strewn thickly
over the pages. "Feb. 23, 1861. A. Lincoln reached
Washington this morning." "Ap. 13. Tidings
that war had commenced at Fort Sumter." "Ap.
16. War news very exciting. Soldiers leaving for
Washington."

Norton feels the effects of the war. "Ap. 27.
Army shirts for the Seminary." Many of the
alumnae will remember how the hundred girls
made a hundred shirts hy handy in one day, at a
time when government had not yet organized
means for fitting out the improvised army. "Ap.
23. Young ladies very zealous to do the work."

[ "2]

"Ap. 25. Mr. Wheaton goes to Taunton to Mass
Meeting for the army." "Ap. 26. Flag raised,"
"May 18. Rode to Attleboro and saw soldiers
drilling." "June 9. Sermon very patriotic."
"June 17. Sewing flag." The alumnae will re-
member the flag they made themselves by sewing
strips of bunting together, and the stirring song
Miss Larcom wrote for the occasion. "July 2.
Home Circle sewed on Army Shirts." "July 3.
Went to Camp." "July 6. Called at boarding-
house and Mrs. Lothrop's about Havelocks."
"July II. Drove to camp of 7th regiment. They
break camp and go to Washington to-morrow."
"July 19. News of great battle at Bull's Head"
(sic). "Oct. 31. Very stormy. What will become
of our fleet that sailed on Tuesday .f*" "Nov. 26.
Batting for soldiers' quilts."

There are many indications of her personal
work for the soldiers, but those given may suffice.
Moreover, she suflFered personal losses in the war.
Her entry after the battle of Gettysburg reports
two relatives wounded and one killed. One of
the wounded, Edward Chapin, the son of her
brother Nicholas, died from his wounds a few
weeks later. He was one of that splendid band of
young Harvard men, of high rank as scholars, who
gave up a college course and entered the army.
He volunteered as a private, but had become a

[ 113]

sergeant in the short time that intervened between
his enUstment and death.

She records the emancipation of the slaves, and
later one of the entries reads: "Packed garments
for freed people." She is happy over the close of
the war, and then mourns the death of Lincoln,
helping in the arrangement for the memorial
funeral services in his honor at Norton.

Every reader of the diaries must be struck by
Mrs. Wheaton's love of religious services. In the
earlier years she seems always to have been present
at three services on Sundays, and also in her Sun-
day-school class. That she did not lightly miss
a service will be seen by such an entry as that of
June 17, 1854, when, after being up half the night
with "intense pain," she goes to two services and
Sunday-school, though she adds "not to eve. meet-
ing." Naturally she reports being "up again" the
following night, and though she then consulted
a doctor, it is not till August 12 that she writes:
"Oh, how grateful for freedom from pain!"

No preacher could have had a more attentive
and appreciative listener. She records every text
in her diary, in full in the early years, and later by
quoting chapter and verse. She often adds some
comment. She never criticises the minister, — her
veneration for ministers seems to have been un-
bounded, — but she often speaks of the help and

[ 114]

comfort she has received from the sermon. "If /
were in right state of mind, what blessing from such
preaching!" she writes. She takes a deep interest
in her Sunday-school class, but often laments that
she is not a very good teacher, especially when she
has only a few scholars, while other classes are full.
Once she writes, "Met S. S. Class. What a privi-
lege! But oh, how stupid." It is her own stupidity
she refers to. Her delight at receiving from her
class at Christmas, 1866, "a beautiful vase in wax,"
sets us thinking rather sadly that Mrs. Wheaton,
who gave so much, received very few presents
herself.

Her attendance on religious services was not
confined to those on Sunday. She held a weekly
female prayer meeting at her own house for a
long series of years, and she was a frequent and
interested listener to the Friday evening speakers
at the Seminary. She never seems to have looked
upon attendance at these many services as a duty,
but to have regarded it as her highest pleasure.
When she spends a winter in Boston she seems to
have felt it her greatest privilege to attend religious
meetings day after day and evening after evening.
She never makes travelling an excuse for not going
to church. In all the various journeys she and Mr.
Wheaton take together, they always rest on Sunday,
and go faithfully to church wherever they may be.

[ "S]

If detained at home, either by her own illness or
that of others of the family, she records her deep
enjoyment in reading her Bible or some religious
book, though once she writes: "Read my Bible.
How much I lose by not reading it more!" Yet
she probably read it diligently, for it is not unusual
for her to mention rising early for private devo-
tional exercises. The entry for November 12, 1859,
is characteristic: "Rose at 4, and after spending
an hour in my room, went to Saturday morning
duties." Her life was not spent in " visions " but in
"duties." Her active duties were many, but she
was never satisfied unless her inward spirit was
the true one in performing them. September 14,
1859, she writes: "I dropped a word or two that
cast a shadow. I am sorry." " Oh, for meekness
and wisdom!" she cries out in some domestic trial.
Indeed, her constant appeal for divine help is very
touching all through the diaries. Moreover, she
never forgets to give thanks for the mercies received.

Though her very life seems to be in her complete
dependence upon God, yet her creed — in the
earlier days at least — was an iron one, and the
fear of God often seems to overshadow his love.

Such reserve and dignity as Mrs. Wheaton's is
very often accompanied by pride of character.
But Mrs. Wheaton was singularly humble. In her
diaries there is not one entry that would indicate

[ "6]

that she ever thought of herself more highly than
she ought to think. Indeed, what is most marked
in them is that she does not seem to think of her-
self at all, except as she occasionally makes some
exclamation showing how far she felt herself to
fall short of her own standards. "My class, but
oh, how little I do!" "O this anxious heart! when
will it rest V October i6, 1853, she writes: "Oh!
for a heart to be wholly the Lord's!" Those who
remember her last illness fifty-two years later,
will realize that this had been her constant prayer
through all these years.

There is no gossip in the diaries and no fault-
finding. If it is necessary for her to note any injury
done to herself, it is in the fewest of words. That
she always forgave those who were sorry for having
done wrong is everywhere evident. There is no
doubt that she forgave fully many very great in-
juries. Indeed, no one could read these diaries
without being impressed with the feeling that here
was a woman whose life did not centre in herself,
but who was constantly striving to be "wholly the
Lord's."

CHAPTER VII

A SUMMER IN EUROPE

In the hope of restoring Mr. Wheaton's failing
health the Wheatons spent the summer of 1862
abroad, sailing from Boston on the Niagara, April
16. They were accompanied by their friend, Major
David E. Holman, who had business in placing a
patent in Europe. The passage was very rough,
and Mrs. Wheaton was not only seasick, but timid.
At last she struggled on deck. She writes in her
journal: "I could find none who sympathized with
me in apprehending danger to the ship. The Eng-
lish have a confidence in one of Cunard's steamers
that seems to set aside the superintending provi-
dence of God." Nevertheless, she records a "feel-
ing of quiet trust" during the voyage, which is
characteristic of her. Naturally timid, she had
so firm a reliance herself on "the providence of
God" that in the most trying circumstances all
through her life, she always appeared calm and
courageous.

Of the voyage, she says: "I can never tell the
sweet, grateful emotions that filled my heart as
day after day kind acts and kind words met me.

[ "8]

Friendship never seemed so precious. If God had
not strengthened and essentially aided me through
friends, I know not what I could have done in
leaving things safe at home."

Her first impression of Liverpool leads her to the
conclusion that enough wines, brandies, etc., are
sold there "to furnish the world with means of
destruction."

"At evening," she says, "a servant comes in,
draws the curtains around the bed, so you may be
thoroughly poisoned by your own breathing. Of
course I undid what they did."

The party went almost immediately to London,
where they spent about half of the time of their
absence from home. There they soon settled them-
selves in a quiet street in a good quarter, taking a
suite of rooms in a family lodging-house and hav-
ing their meals sent in to their own parlor, giving
them a very home-like feeling. The rooms were
opposite some botanic gardens, and Mrs. Wheaton
was delighted with the trees in bloom and the sing-
ing of the birds. She was also interested in the
equipages of the nobility constantly passing her
windows, and wrote to her "dear Matty" that she
wished the little Holmes boys were beside her to
see the powdered footmen and coachmen in their
fine liveries, and the richly-dressed ladies in the
carriages.

["9]

In London, she met many old friends, among
whom she saw frequently Mrs. Fowler (Lydia
Folger), an early pupil and teacher in the Seminary,
who knew London thoroughly, and proved an ex-
cellent guide. Mrs. Fowler had a lively disposi-
tion, and made one of the Wheaton party on the
"Darby Day," of which neither she nor Mrs.
Wheaton could ever afterwards speak without
laughing. But for all that, and though the Whea-
tons naturally gravitated towards any place where
fine horses were to be seen (witness their great
interest in the horse-taming exhibitions of Rarey
and others), yet Mrs. Wheaton's diary testifies that
she did not escape some qualms of conscience over
the experience.

In London, the Wheatons looked about them
in a leisurely way, seeing all the great sights that
everybody sees. It is characteristic that the first
time Mrs. Wheaton walked out, she visited the
National Gallery, and that her first Sunday was
spent in listening to Spurgeon. She was thrilled
by the singing of the 6000 members of Spurgeon's
congregation. The choral service at St. Paul's also
aifected her deeply. " The sound, as it reverberated
from the high arches, seemed as I have imagined
the heavenly strains might, to a soul just released
from its clay tenement." She describes the many
layers of coffins that inclose the dust of Wellington,

[ 120 ]

and copies the dozen and more titles on the in-
scription plate, adding, "and a most extroardinary
inscription for mortal man it is!"

At Westminster Abbey she says she "could never
tell" the effect on her mind. After giving a long
description of it, she says, "The touch of time on
the edifice enters your soul." But she was not left
to her own emotions. "After looking at these
famous chairs" (the coronation chairs), she writes:
"The party with the verger passed to the other side
of the shrine, when, all of a sudden, the verger
turned back, and exclaimed, *I should n't have
thought you would have done that the moment
my eye was off from you.' / looked back, and lo!!!
there was my Husband just hooking up the railing
that enclosed the coronation chair. He had been
and taken a seat in it, tho. I imagine it was a short
sitting. When we told our guide outside the Abbey,
he exclaimed almost with horror that he did n't
suppose one in 10,000 did it."

At the Tower, and even at Hampton Court
which delighted her, the associations with Henry
Vni brought home to her almost too vividly his
enormities. Even with the glories of the crown
jewels before her eyes, she says she cares much
more for the paintings and statuary than for the
jewels.

At Whitefield's Chapel, she recalls that White-

[ I"]

field's remains rest at Newburyport, Mass. She
says, " I saw them many years ago and took the
skull in my hands — a liberty that should never
be allowed with the sainted dead."

Passing Smithfield, and remembering John
Rogers and his nine small children, she writes in a
letter home, "Oh, how often has my childish heart
swelled as I looked at the picture in my little
primer."

Windsor Castle was a great disappointment to
her, because it looked like a fortress to keep out
foes rather than a palace to live in. The guard of
1900 soldiers; the doors unlocked by their guide and
locked after they had passed through ; the points
from which there were beautiful views, but which
seemed "fitted for reconnoitring an enemy," — by
all these things "a peace-loving spirit is pained.
My very breathing seemed oppressed." She
thought, however, that the monument to the Prin-
cess Charlotte was the most beautiful she had ever
seen. The visit concluded with a survey of the
Royal stables. With all her love of horses, Mrs.
Wheaton was much disturbed by the extrava-
gance she saw here, and concludes: "I felt dis-
gusted with Royalty, and steamed back to London
by the first train, — to my pleasant little parlor, —
pitying poor Victoria and her many penniless sub-
jects." That Mrs. Wheaton thought often about

[ 122 ]

the "penniless subjects" is shown by her visits to
the Ragged Schools and the Foundling.

A characteristic incident of the London visit
w^as Mrs. Wheaton's going to the salesrooms of
Wheeler & Wilson's Sew^ing Machines to get some
stitching done. Her work was refused on the
ground that everybody was too busy to under-
take it. On this, Mrs. Wheaton inquired whether
there would be any objection to her using one of
the machines herself. None being made, she
seated herself calmly and accomplished her pur-
pose.

All through her journey, America was much in
her thoughts. She was distressed that the English
showed so little sympathy in our war. At the Inter-
national Exhibition she was troubled at the "small
and dusty" exhibit from the United States. At the
government arsenal at Woolwich, however, she
learned a fact that showed England was not alto-
gether independent of America. She records:
"When the news of the battle between the Merri-
mac and Monitor reached here, they dismissed
4000 men who were at work on war vessels that
they now deem useless, and are discussing the best
plans for ironclad vessels."

All her party were interested in spending a day
at L( .?)uton, where 20,000 people were engaged
in making straw braid, and in comparing the work

[ 123 ]

with that of Mr. Wheaton's own straw shop in
Norton.

She writes that she had "depended" on being
with her "countrymen" in London at their festival
at the Crystal Palace, on the Fourth of July; but
an invitation from friends she had known in
America, Mr. and Mrs. Muntz, to visit their beauti-
ful home at Southampton caused her to give up
her plan. Before returning to London, the party
visited the mother of Mrs. Muntz in the Isle of
Wight, where Mrs. Wheaton was as much inter-
ested in the localities connected with "The Dairy-
man's Daughter" and "Little Jane," as with the
Queen's Palace at Osborne. On their way back
to London they saw Salisbury Plain, from whose
shepherd, it may be, Mrs. Wheaton had learned
the lesson of never complaining of the weather.
They also saw Mr. Miiller's school of iioo chil-
dren, entirely supported by answers to prayer.
They visited Bristol, and saw the "most beautiful
stained glass windows in England in St. Mary
RedclifF Church," in whose tower Chatterton
found his manuscripts. Speaking of the cathedral
of Bristol, Mrs. Wheaton writes to her sister Mary:
"I expressed the wish while there to call to us the
graduates of W. F. Seminary and stand with them
by the remains of Bishop Butler, and those of
Whateley, both of whom rest here."

[ 124]

A little detour led the party to the Wye, and to
Tintern Abbey, which, as might be expected,
touched Mrs. Wheaton deeply. She says: "If I
ever felt like invoking the Muses, it was at this
spot."

A few days among the fine scenery in the south
of Wales, and then the Wheatons returned to
London, July lo, and made their arrangements for
a short continental trip. On July i8, they left
London for Paris via Folkstone and Boulogne.
In Paris they spent ten days. Mrs. Wheaton, as
usual, enjoyed the picture galleries, visiting the
Louvre, the Luxembourg, and Versailles (where
the Grand Trianon is to her the "most charming
spot"). She was delighted with the Bois de Bou-
logne, w^ith the Gobelin tapestries, and with the
grounds and forest at Fontainebleau.

Among Mrs. Wheaton's treasures were several
letters of introduction from the long-time friend
of the Wheatons', Rev. Mr. Hovey, written to
ministers of American chapels in various places.
In that to Dr. McClintock, of the chapel at Paris,
the writer says, "the chapel which they [the
Wheatons] have helped to build."

From Paris they proceeded by way of Dijon,
Macon, and Lyons to Geneva, where they not only
saw the usual sights, but sat in the pulpit chair of
John Calvin, in which John Knox had also sat,

[ 125]

without any remonstrance from a horrified verger.
Mrs. Wheaton's love for fine scenery was deeply
gratified by her little Swiss journey, and her pocket
diary is full of exclamations over its magnificence.
They went by boat to Vevay, then by diligence to
Berne, to Basle. Leaving Switzerland, they passed
through Strasburg, Baden, Heidelberg, and Frank-
fort, and then down the Rhine to Cologne, "a day
of great interest," and via Brussels back to London.

They had still one pleasant duty remaining be-
fore they sailed for home. Before leaving Norton,
the citizens of the village had held a public meet-
ing, Mr. Annes A. Lincoln, Jr., Moderator, in
which an address had been prepared to be pre-
sented by Mr. Wheaton to the town of Chipping-
Norton in England, whence the early settlers of the
American Norton had set forth. The address was
accompanied by a copy of the history of the town,
and a map of the township.

Accordingly, on their way to Liverpool, the
Wheatons stopped at Chipping-Norton, and Mr.
Wheaton delivered all the gifts into the hands of
the Mayor, who later returned an address of thanks,
and with it, on behalf of his townsmen, sent a
lithographic view of the town of Norton, England,
to the town in the United States, though apparently
the lithograph was never received. The Wheatons
took passage on the Great Eastern, saihng August

[ "6]

i6. The passage home was easier than that out,
but that Mrs. Wheaton had not quite conquered
her timidity appears from an entry in connection
with some sports of the sailors on deck. "I feared
the ship might suffer from neglect of duty, as so
many of the hands were engaged."

They landed in New York August 27, and
reached home in the evening of August 29, where
they received an enthusiastic welcome from the
servants, who had everything in good order for
them; from the "dear Matty," who had superin-
tended all affairs in their absence, even to sending
flowers from the garden constantly to the friends
Mrs. Wheaton had been in the habit of remember-
ing, and devoting their currants to making currant
shrub for the sick soldiers; and from Mr. and Mrs.
Beane ; ^ doubtless, too, from the "Jerry" (whether
dog or horse, we do not know) to whom, in one of
her letters, Mrs. Wheaton sends a "loving pat on
the head."

On the Sunday after the return home, Mrs.
Wheaton notes staying after the church service
"to see the presentation of gifts to Edwin Barrows
and five others going to war," Mr. Barrows being
,the member of the present board of Seminary
trustees who has now been longest in office. Thus

^ Mr. Beane, who had married Miss Knight, was at that time
pastor of the Trinitarian Congregational Church.

[ 127 ]

the Wheatons were again brought face to face with
the war. On September 17, Mrs. Wheaton de-
scribes a Soldiers' Tea Party, with the volunteers
at the supper table, and her great astonishment
when her neighbor, Rev. Mr. Lothrop, presented a
"delightful photograph album" to herself and Mr.
Wheaton.

Inspired, perhaps, by her experience in Paris,
she, with Mrs. Holmes, joined a French class at
the Seminary under Professor Du Bois, whom
many of the alumnae will remember as an enter-
taining Frenchman who had invented what he
believed to be a short cut to French conversation,
based on the thorough mastery of the verbs. Mrs.
Wheaton was now 53 years old, but she bought a
French Testament and went to work with enthusi-
asm, forgetting, however, none of her regular du-
ties, — or irregular ones either, for her diary often
notes, "Sewing for the soldiers," etc. And yet on
the last night of 1862 she writes in her diary: "Oh,
that this year bore a better account of my steward-
ship. 'Slothful servant' may well be written against
my record." Then she adds, "To-morrow we hope
3 or 4 millions of slaves will be set at liberty by
the President, A. Lincoln. Proclamation as a
'military necessity.'"

CHAPTER VIII

WIDOWHOOD

"Every tree and shrub dressed in New Year's
Bridal of pure snow. The Neck Woods was sur-
passingly beautiful. I rode with Husband through
it." This is the entry in Mrs. Wheaton's diary for
January 2, 1865. The sleigh-ride through Neck
Woods was the last of the many beautiful drives
the Wheatons took together.

On January 7 Mr. Wheaton was taken danger-
ously ill. There were no trained nurses in those days,
but all the neighbors the Wheatons had helped
so often in times of trouble gathered around them
now, and among the watchers by the sick bed we
read the names of Mr. Wild, Mr. Edwin Barrows,
Mrs. Metcalf, Mr. Cobb, Mr. Annes Lincoln,
"Sister Mary," Mr. Rogerson, and Mrs. Beane.
"Dear Matty" came from her distant home on
January 15, and Mr. Wheaton exclaimed: "Thank
God for this, thank you for this!" On the i6th
he was delirious and called for his wife in heart-
rending tones. On the 17th Mrs. Wheaton writes:
"At 5 called the family. At 5^ he called for singing,
and said, 'I am grounded in Christ.' The singing

[ 129 ]

soothed him and he fell asleep. He never woke,
but died gently."

Mrs. Wheaton kept the letters of sympathy
received at this time all her life. It is striking to see
how many of the writers speak of Mr. Wheaton
as having given them personal help in one way or
another. From the tributes to him, Mrs. Smith's
paper quotes "a very few." "Sister Mary" grieves
for " a beloved and respected brother-in-law," and
writes: "The grave has closed over your dearest
earthly friend; may all your loss be made up to you
in a sweet union with Christ." Mrs. Cowles writes :
"I want once more to look on the precious face
which has always looked so kindly on me. The
great black space between is bridged over by
thoughts of his sent over to you, as well as by
thoughts of yours which go every minute to him.
Everything everywhere will be so blended with
his memory as to be doubly dear. Where can you
go in your house or out of it, where his image,
his plans, his work, his smile, will not meet and
greet you .? I feel sure that your life will be more
than ever given to blessing the world, that interest
in the neighbor will be your medicine." Mrs.
Holmes writes: "That sweet face, so calm and
peaceful, with that body so chastely arrayed for the
last time, appears to me many, many times in the
day; and I feel the last kind words to me have

[ 130 ]

been spoken, the last generous act has been done,
and the many sympathizing emotions that found ex-
pression in many ways to the afflicted will never-
more be felt; but I love to think of him in heaven,
among the rescued from this world's trials and
temptations, — forever at rest, — occupying that
'humble place' in the kingdom for which he often
petitioned in prayer."

Mrs. Smith also quotes from the diaries : " Heart's
mourning for the dear one. His face is sweet in
death." " The dear face and form are forever buried
from my sight. I cannot realize that I shall never
see him more." Sunday in church: "The beginning
of going without the one on whom I have leaned
for thirty-five years." "My heart is waking up
more and more to the reality that my precious
Husband has gone." Under great pressure of
business cares: "This has been a very trying day.
Ah! that dear one foresaw it." "Sabbath eve is
the most trying of all the week." "Very sad heart.
My dear Husband's absence seems more real than
ever before. I removed his things from the bureau
for Jennie to occupy. She came at eve." "Jennie
and I set out for Uxbridge. For thirty-six years my
dear husband and I had spent our Thanksgiving to-
gether. Now he is bound in the embrace of death
and I go without him." Mrs. Smith says: "The
anniversaries of her marriage were always kept

[ 131]

with almost religious regard. June 25, 1870, she
writes: 'This has been the forty-first anniversary
of my marriage. I still hold them sacred.' "

A gentleman who knew the Wheatons well has
summed up in a few forcible words the story of
Mrs. Wheaton's relation to her husband. Having
spoken of her "quiet devotion" to him, he con-
tinues, "While always exceedingly deferential in
her attitude towards him, she very tactfully ad-
vised and at times restrained what would have
been hasty and injudicious action on his part. . . ,
In Mrs. Wheaton were combined in an unusual
degree rare judgment and rare diplomacy."

By Mr. Wheaton's will, Mrs. Wheaton was
given the use of the bulk of his property during
her life; but the most valuable part of it, an estate
on Winter Street, in Boston, was to go to the Semi-
nary after her death. This estate had been bought
by Judge Wheaton many years before, when Win-
ter Street was still a residence section of the city,
as a home for his daughter, Mrs. Strong, but the
title had never passed out of the Wheaton family
(Dr. Strong did not long survive his wife). That
part of the city had now been given up entirely
to business, and the property had increased very
largely in value.

Whether Mrs. Wheaton suggested this clause
in the will, we do not know, though it is not un-

[ 132 ]

likely; but that she cordially approved of it is
shown by her action many years later. In 1890, —
perhaps because of the increase in the value of the
estate, — by Mrs. Wheaton's initiative, an act of
the legislature v^as passed enabling the Seminary to
hold real estate to the amount of ^500,000 more
than had been previously allowed. Soon after the
passage of the act, however, a new question arose
suggested by a parallel case in connection with
Cornell University. Cornell had been founded by
special charter, which gave it a limited right to
hold real estate. A Mr. Fiske made a large bequest
to it, much exceeding this limited amount. After his
death the New York legislature passed an act to
enable the University to hold real estate to the
required amount and more. But the New York
court decided that the act was not effective; that
the bequest was void, so that the residuary legatees
took the estate immediately upon the death of the
testator.

In the recent decision (1907) of the Salisbury
will case in this State, the Massachusetts court
took a different view of the matter; but in 1890 no
similar case had been tried in Massachusetts, and
it was evident that if the court in this State should
agree with that of New York, the property that
Mr. Wheaton had willed to the Seminary would
belong to Mrs. Wheaton as his residuary legatee.

[ ^33 ]

Therefore, if it had been her wish to control that
property, she had good reason to suppose that she
could do so. Now that the enabling act had been
passed, however, it was within her power to make
Mr. Wheaton's will effective by naming the Semi-
nary in her own will as residuary legatee. This was
done. It might have been done in any case, even
if Mrs. Wheaton had not personally wished to
benefit the Seminary, for there is no doubt she
would have conscientiously carried out what she
knew to be her husband's intention without taking
advantage of any legal technicality. Nevertheless,
the fact remains that it was Mrs. Wheaton's own
deliberate decision that the Seminary should re-
ceive this large addition to its funds! It was she
who actually made effective the large gift of her
husband during the years before the Salisbury
will had been tested.* In view of this, it is no ex-
aggeration to say that Wheaton Seminary, from
first to last, has owed its very life to Mrs. Wheaton.
Mr. Wheaton died January 17,1865. How soon
after her husband's death Mrs. Wheaton took
up firmly the new duties that fell to her share, and
how unselfishly she fulfilled them, will be seen by
the following letter, bearing date July 12, 1865: —

* Shortly before the close of Mrs. Wheaton's life, another
enabling act was passed by which the Seminary may now hold
more than a million dollars' worth of property.

[ 134 ]

To THE Trustees of Wheaton Female Semi-
nary:

Gentlemen^ — Among the papers of my lamented
husband I find a note of hand given by the Treas-
urer of your Board, the balance of which now due
is Thirty-five hundred dollars.

This claim I cheerfully relinquish and inclose the
note, with assurances of unabated interest and ten-
der regard for the Institution that stands out the
Representative of the departed Founder and Patron.
Its prosperity will ever be the solace of my life.
I thank you for expressions of sympathy, and the
request that I continue to feel the same liberty as
formerly to make suggestions relative to the inter-
ests of the school.

With sentiments of high regard, I remain very
respectfully, Your friend,

E. B. Wheaton.

At the time this letter was written Mrs. Wheaton
was so pressed for money that it is known that she
sold some of her jewels to avoid disposing of cer-
tain pieces of the property at a sacrifice.

Under date of July ii, 1866, we find some reso-
lutions of the trustees, thanking Mrs. Wheaton
for a gift of the portrait of her husband, to which
is added in pencil, "This gift is all the more accept-
able as the Donor has so courteously and kindly

accomplished a purpose of the Trustees in refer-
ence to a portrait for the Institution."

From this time to the end of her life Mrs.
Wheaton's gifts to the Seminary flowed in a con-
stant stream.

The death of Mr. Wheaton wrought a great
change in Mrs. Wheaton's life, though, as she con-
tinued to live quietly in the old home, this was not
evident to most of her acquaintances. Until this
time her chief work had been the management of
her household. Of this w^ork her niece, Mrs.
Frank A. Hewins (Anna G. Chapin), writes: "My
aunt was an almost perfect housekeeper. As a
child I can remember how everything from the
carriage house to the attic was always in order; in
every closet and every drawer nothing seemed to
be out of place, and yet one did not feel that nothing
could be touched for fear of displacing it. It was
natural for her to be very methodical."

Of course, such perfect management of a large,
hospitable home was enough to tax the energies
of the housekeeper to the utmost, even if she had
had no outside interests, such as those connected
with the Seminary, the church, and the social life
of the village. So that after her husband's death,
when the cares of business and of the farm de-
volved upon her, it became necessary for her to
transfer a part, at least, of the oversight of the house-

[ 136 5

hold to others. This was the more needful be-
cause the Civil War had caused changes in the
business world such that the Wheaton property
was in jeopardy, and it was only by the greatest
vigilance, extending over some years, that it was
possible to weather the financial storm. She was
so fortunate as to have the help of her brothers in
her business affairs, particularly the very efficient
help of her brother Adolphus. Her letters to him
show that she consulted him at every step.

In April she had the great happiness of again
welcoming her brother Austin to Massachusetts
after his eleven years' absence in California. The
few months he passed at the East before return-
ing to his family on the Pacific shore seem to have
been a deep comfort to her in her sorrow.

Meantime, her household cares were lightened
by several friends. Miss Charlotte Sawyer, a
dearly loved sister of Mrs. Holmes, always a
familiar visitor at the Wheatons', now remained
in the household for almost a year. One of the
loveliest of Mrs. Wheaton's many lovely nieces,
Miss Jennie Chapin (afterwards Mrs. Pearce), of
West Roxbury, came to Norton to be her aunt's
companion, and for several years, indeed almost
to the time of her marriage, she added grace and
brightness to the saddened home. Mrs. Wheaton
gathered other young people about her. Miss

[ ^Z1 ]

Mary Anna Fox, the adopted daughter of Mrs.
Wheaton's sister, Mrs. Judson, made one of the
family much of the time, being a student at the
Seminary. Mary, her youngest niece, the little
daughter of her brother Adolphus, Mrs. Wheaton
appears to have kept with her all the time that the
parents could be persuaded to spare the child. A
few years later both Mary and her cousin Anna,
from West Roxbury, became pupils at the Semi-
nary, and a large part of their time was spent with
their aunt.

Mrs. Wheaton's loving heart went out to all
the young people, but she needed more experienced
help in the management of her domestic affairs.
The friend to whom she now turned, and who be-
came her companion, was Mrs. Samuel Beane,
once Miss Eliza R. Knight. The friendship be-
tween Mrs. Wheaton and Mrs. Beane was already
of long standing, for Mrs. Beane was the early
principal of Wheaton who had arranged the first
regular course of study, and had designed its ap-
propriate seal — a fountain, with the motto : " Who
drinks will thirst for more." Miss Knight became
principal before she was twenty-five years old, but
she had much dignity and executive ability, to-
gether with enthusiasm and culture, and was a
powerful help to Mrs- Wheaton in the object near-
est to Mrs. Wheaton's heart. But like most of

[ 138]

the early principals, she had soon resigned her posi-
tion to become the wife of a minister, her wedding
taking place at the Wheaton mansion.

Though Mrs. Wheaton and Mrs. Beane were
separated from 1841 to i860, their warm friend-
ship continued, and in i860 their intimacy was
renewed, for Mr. Beane then became pastor of the
church of which the Wheatons were members.
Mrs. Beane's two daughters now entered the Sem-
inary, and once more their mother became person-
ally interested in it. Then, too, she began to be
deeply interested in the town, as she continued to
be all her life. In both these directions she and
Mrs. Wheaton were constantly working together,
and their friendship became more and more firmly
cemented. In 1865, a new bond united them, for
both became widows in the same year. October
23, Mrs. Wheaton's diary records of Mrs. Beane:
"Her home is over in Norton. She has gone to
Worcester. My heart is sad."

Mrs. Beane was left with very small means.
For a time she lived in Worcester, making a charm-
ing home for her eldest daughter, then a teacher
in the High School there, and receiving into the
family a fellow teacher of her daughter. In this
home Mrs. Beane did almost all the housework
herself cheerfully, and thoroughly, until she fell
downstairs, breaking both arms. Then the home

[ 139 ]

had to be given up. She recovered slowly, but she
could never hope to do manual labor again.

It was then that Mrs. Wheaton invited her to
Norton as her own companion, and very soon
many of the housekeeping cares were transferred
to her capable and intelligent management. Mrs.
Beane's ideas of neatness and order and thrift
were entirely in harmony with those of Mrs.
Wheaton, and she had had experience in managing
both a large and a small family. Mrs. Wheaton
could leave all details to her with the certainty
that nothing would be neglected. She needed such
a helper, for outside interests claimed more and
more of her attention.

Mrs. Beane had no special aptitude for business,
— the bent of her mind was towards literature
rather, — but Mrs. Wheaton, at this period of her
life, was not a woman who could have left her
business to the care of another, in any case. She
felt too great a responsibility for the right use of
all her possessions. Mrs. Hewins writes: "As a
business woman she was very clear headed. If a
tract of land was to be ploughed, she knew how
much grass seed was necessary to sow it with.
She knew how much grass should be cut from cer-
tain lots. When a house was to be shingled, she
would sit down at her desk and calculate how many
shingles it would be necessary to order."

[ 140 ]

It was often said of her by business men that
her judgment in regard to investments was sel-
dom at fault. But she had other responsibilities
besides her farm and her investments. These
brought her money, but it was equally important
to her that the money should be well spent. It
may be doubted whether she ever spent even a
dollar without asking herself whether she was
spending it in the wisest possible way.

Miss Mary B. Briggs, for many years a Semi-
nary teacher, writes: "First and foremost, the
school was to be kept up . . . for was not that
the answer to her own prayer and her own timid
suggestion ? (She must have been a marvellously
wise young woman to have carried that point in
her early married life.) Then came the church
. . . and finally the town, with its varied interests.
She reminds me of some of those queens who,
forgetting their fatherland, are wholly devoted to
the land of their adoption."

Probably Mrs. Wheaton could not have found
in the whole world another companion so deeply
interested in all three of these main objects of
her life as Mrs. Beane. In youth, Mrs. Beane had
been principal of the school almost at its founda-
tion. Later, both her daughters had been gradu-
ated there, and at different times afterwards they
were both among its teachers. In the church of

[ HI ]

Norton, too, Mrs. Beane had a warm personal
interest, not only from her early connection with it,
but because she had entered so heartily into her
husband's efforts to make it a power in the com-
munity during his pastorate. In the town itself
she had become much interested while in the posi-
tion of a minister's wife, for she was a large-
natured, warm-hearted woman.

This companionship lasted for more than thirty
years, until Mrs. Beane died in 1899 at the age of
85. Such an intimate, lifelong friendship would
be impossible to many women, especially to wo-
men differing so much in temperament as Mrs.
Wheaton and Mrs. Beane. But the great aims of
life were the same for both, and both had that
strong sense of duty that unhesitatingly subordi-
nates small matters to large ones. Of course there
must have been friction, as there always is in any
intimate relation, yet they were both high-minded
women, and they bore the test. Moreover, they
were both working for certain definite and noble
ends outside of themselves, and that is an import-
ant factor in any enduring friendship.

Though it is true that, in one sense, Mrs.
Wheaton was little influenced by others, for if a
course of action did not commend itself to her
judgment she would not adopt it because it
seemed good to some dear friend, nevertheless,

[ 142]

she had none of that obstinate pride that leads
one to insist on planning everything without ad-
vice from others. She was not seeking to glorify
herself in her charities, but to do all the good in
her power. And Mrs. Beane was able to make
many excellent suggestions. She had had a some-
what wide experience of life, and she also had
good judgment. She knew some needs of the town
of Norton even better than Mrs. Wheaton herself.
The very fact that Mrs. Wheaton was rich pre-
vented many people from speaking to her of their
circumstances as plainly as they could do to Mrs.
Beane, who was merely a friendly neighbor, who
had to count her own pennies as carefully as they
did themselves. Mrs. Beane was also a less re-
served person than Mrs. Wheaton. Her social
instincts were strong, and while both her dignity
and her refinement saved her from encouraging
gossip, she had a very natural manner that put
others at their ease in talking with her. As a result
of these conditions, Mrs. Beane often knew of some
real need in the town that would not have come
to Mrs. Wheaton's knowledge without her. She
was a generous woman, and would have been glad
to give help herself. This she could not do, and
she fully realized that it was not for her to decide
how Mrs. Wheaton should spend her money. It
was, however, often in her power to lay the case

[ 143]

before Mrs. Wheaton, and this she would do simply
and with delicacy. That was all that it was neces-
sary to do. If Mrs. Wheaton saw that her help
was needed, she did not require urging to give it,
that is, unless, in her own mind, she had already
appropriated all her income to objects that seemed
to her more important. In this way, Mrs. Beane
was a power in the town, and many, both of the
public and the private benefactions of Mrs.
Wheaton, owed their origin to some word of hers.
Later in life, through the legacy of a friend, Mrs.
Beane became independent of Mrs. Wheaton, but
she remained an honored inmate of the home,
though then too old and feeble to be of practical
use in the household, for both her daughters had
died in middle life, and no one in the world was
so near to her as Mrs. Wheaton.

These two daughters for many years brought an
element of younger life into the household. They
were teachers, and were seldom free to visit Norton,
but in all their vacations Mrs. Wheaton welcomed
them to her home as cordially as she welcomed her
own nieces. She welcomed not only the daughters,
but often their friends. She would sometimes make
a house-party expressly for them, and, with all her
reserve and dignity, she would enjoy the fun and
frolic of the guests as much as the guests did them-
selves. There was a good deal of fun at such a

[ H4 ]

time, for both the daughters had inherited a strong
sense of humor from their mother, and though,
like most people, they stood a little in awe of Mrs.
Wheaton, they filled the house with liveliness.

Though the heart of Mrs. Wheaton, a childless
widow, was often sad, as her diaries show, yet her
great love for others kept it sweet and sound. It
overflowed especially towards her own relatives.

Mrs. Hewins writes: "Her manner, which she
inherited from her mother, was always dignified,
but she was very warm in her affections, and never
forgot her early friends. I think if there was any
occasion she enjoyed more than another, it was
the Thanksgiving Day of years ago. Before the
separations had come in the different families,
it was the custom for many years to have a family
reunion at that time, the meeting being held first
with one, and then the following year with another
member of the family. Aunt E. enjoyed so much
the evening before Thanksgiving, when old days
were talked over! But as one after another passed
away, the gathering was given up."

I remember myself a letter received from Mrs.
Wheaton just after her 90th Thanksgiving Day,
in which, though it was very short, she spoke with
such affectionate delight of a visit on that day from
her New York nephew, that it is evident she re-
tained the old family feeling to the end.

CHAPTER IX

WHEATON SEMINARY UNDER MRS. METCALF
AND MISS STANTON

No story of Mrs. Wheaton's life can be com-
plete without at least an outline of the life of the
Seminary, which was in so large a measure of her
own creation, which filled so large a place in her
thoughts, and whose teachers were her intimate
friends.

During these years the Seminary had been de-
veloping steadily and beautifully.

Mrs. Caroline Cutler Metcalf became its prin-
cipal in 1850. She was a vigorous and capable
woman with remarkable executive ability, and her
administration was the longest in the history of
the school — twenty-six years. After her retire-
ment in 1876, her place was worthily filled for three
years by Miss Ellen M. Haskell, then for a year
by Miss Martha H. Sprague, while in 1880, Miss
A. Ellen Stanton, who had previously been a
teacher in the school for nine years, succeeded
to the principalship, which she held for eighteen
years, thus making her connection with the school
even longer than that of Mrs. Metcalf. Through

[ 1463

her association with Mrs. Metcalf, though the two
were very unlike, both in character and in methods
of government, there was a certain continuity of
development in the institution from Mrs. Metcalf's
accession in 1850 to Miss Stanton's retirement in
1897, a period covering almost two thirds of its
history. A link between these two administrations
was Miss Clara M. Pike, who, entering the school
as a very young girl, was graduated in the Class of
1866, and being almost immediately recalled by
Mrs. Metcalf as a teacher of natural science, held
that position till after the retirement of Miss
Stanton.

To give the full history of this period of the life
of the Seminary would require a volume by itself.
All that the scope of the present work will allow,
is an attempt to give some impression of the spirit
of the school during these years. This was so en-
thusiastically and yet so truly done in some un-
written remarks recently made by Miss Julia Os-
good to the N. E. Wheaton Club that she was asked
to put them into the form of a paper for this book.
As Miss Osgood was a pupil at Wheaton under
Mrs. Metcalf, and as she returned to the Seminary
as lecturer on Art a quarter of a century later, after
a rich and varied experience of life, many years
of which had been spent in the study of the picture
galleries of Europe, she was peculiarly fitted to

[ H7 ]

appreciate the steady development of the Seminary,
in which Mrs. Wheaton's ideals have been con-
stantly worked out in larger and more beautiful
forms from decade to decade.

Before giving her paper, however, some special
features of Mrs. Metcalf's administration should
perhaps be noted.

Under her care the school made great progress.
She was a woman thoroughly awake to all the
great educational movements of the time, and, one
by one, she placed each of the main departments
of the school on a strong and enduring foundation.
Her greatest gift was her unerring judgment in
the selection of her assistants. She not only clearly
saw the kind of work she wanted done, but she
knew how to choose exactly the right woman to do
it. Having chosen her, she left her perfectly free
as to methods.

One of these teachers was Miss Lucy Larcom,
who made the study of literature inspiring to every
girl in her classes. At a time when the one great
fault of the school was its high pressure, in her
classes there was always a serene, untroubled at-
mosphere. Her life was so elevated and beautiful,
that without effort, and unconsciously, she shared
it with all about her. A few words of hers at one
of the annual breakfasts of the New York Wheaton
Club, expressing her own feeling towards the girls,

[ 148]

may give a better idea of her than pages of com-
ment.

She says she seems to have Hved once in Tenny-
son's "Rosebud garden of girls." "The beauty
of the hfe at Norton v^as the blending of wilderness
and garden. The gardens looked out into meadows
and woods, and meadow and wood crept up to
meet the gardens. Pine forests and old apple
orchards ran wild together. Meadowlarks and
wood-thrushes came up and sang at the Seminary
windows at sunrise, waking us before the 'rising
bell.' Always there was a sort of wild flower fla-
vor about the girls themselves, and the wildness
did not make them less interesting. We were down
in the wet meadows after violets and anemones
and arethusas, in our rubber boots, or reciting bot-
any in the arbor across the way in Mrs. Wheaton's
garden, using ferns and rose leaves for book-marks
in our logic or rhetoric or mental philosophy.
Everything was breezy, fresh, unschooled, even in
school. This combination of nature and cultivation
made the charm of the school, and we learned
there the lesson of life, that we are truly educated
through all our existence by growing together, and
by entering into the spirit of the growth around us.
The garden need never be afraid of the wilderness,
and the wilderness may always be at home in the
garden.

[ 149 ]

"All cultivated flowers were wild flowers once.
Culture must have freedom. Nothing grows well
without plenty of air. We need not fear other
growths, but may be glad to grow among plants
which have known difi'erent horizons and atmos-
pheres from our own. As in the days when we
were teachers and pupils together, we may drop
those distinctive names, and feel that we are learn-
ers and workers together in the wilderness-garden
of the world."

The report of the breakfast says: "Miss Larcom
concluded by proposing the sentiment, which was
responded to with great warmth and fervor, ' Our
dear and honored Mrs. Wheaton, and her lovely
and beloved wild-flower garden of girls!'"

Who could fill Miss Larcom's place ? Yet many
of the alumnae feel that in Miss Ann Eliza Carter,^
who carried on the work in literature after Miss
Larcom laid it down, Mrs. Metcalf succeeded in
finding another rare spirit, whose teaching, though
inevitably difi^erent from Miss Larcom's, was of
the finest quality.

To the noble and scholarly work of Miss Mary
E. Blair and her successors. Miss Mary B. Briggs,
Miss Jeannie E. Woodbury (now Mrs. Annes A.
Lincoln), and the Misses Emerson, it was due that

^ Daughter of James G. Carter, called the "Father of Nor-
mal Schools."

[ ISO]

history at Wheaton, in Mrs. Metcalf's day, was
something entirely different from the mere text-
book work in vogue in most girls' schools of the
time. These teachers were quite unlike each other,
but Mrs. Metcalf's clear vision saw the power in
each, and that, by leaving them free, the Seminary
would reap the full advantage of the gifts of all.

Mrs. Metcalf always made a point of having
some Normal School graduate among the members
of her faculty, — a point much more important in
the pre-coUegiate days of women than now, — for
she wished the school to be in touch with the latest
ideas of expert students of pedagogy. Among these
women, Miss Mary J. Cragin, a teacher of real
genius, put the department of mathematics —
always an important one in the school — on such
a solid basis that there was hardly a girls' school
in the country whose work could compare with it;
and through Miss Cragin's pupils, who succeeded
her, the high standards then prevailing became
permanent in the Seminary.

When, in the early sixties, the first wave of inter-
est in the natural sciences swept over the land,
Mrs. Metcalf's keen eyes began their search for a
competent teacher of the subject. Her choice of
Miss Sarah E. Cole was a happy one, for Miss
Cole combined two unusual qualities, — scientific
thoroughness and a sensitive love of beauty.

['5']

Though her work extended over only five years, its
influence has never been lost. It w^as carried on
along the lines she laid dov^n by several of her
pupils, especially by Miss Pike, so long the head
of the department of natural science, which soon
became one of Wheaton's chief glories. While
laboratory work developed more and more, it was
never suffered to crowd out living beauty.

Leading scientists were called in to supplement
the work of the regular teachers. Norton was in
easy communication with Boston, and professors
of the Institute of Technology guided the work in
physics, in chemistry, in mineralogy, in field
geology, and in zoology. When, through the public-
spirited generosity of Mrs. Ellen H. Richards,
laboratory work in chemistry first became available
to New England women, Mrs. Metcalf's teachers
were among the first to take advantage of the new
opportunities for study, cheerfully making the
journey to Boston and back for the sake of in-
struction. When the Teachers' School of Science
was formed, Mrs. Metcalf's teachers were always
among its pupils,

A chemical laboratory was needed. Mrs. Whea-
ton supplied it. Not very large, it was yet a
model in its way. The same kind friend supplied
the natural history cabinets, the observatory, with
its excellent telescope, the set of compound micro-

[152]

scopes for the botany class. The department was
always fully abreast of the day in scientific equip-
ment, and, at the same time, every girl learned to
love the beauty of the outdoor world, a trait not
always found in connection with scientific study,
and yet a possession which many a woman would
acknowledge to have made life far better worth
living.

Though a sound English education had been the
ideal of the founders of the school, neither the
Wheatons nor Mrs. Metcalf could by any means
rest satisfied with that. Good instruction in Latin
was provided; and French was now thoroughly
taught, partly by native teachers of University
training (what pupil can ever forget the fiery les-
sons of Professor Alphonse Renaud, the refugee of
1848 .''), and partly by high-bred American women
who had lived many years abroad, among whom
the alumnae will recall the names of Miss Mary
Emma Peabody, Miss Caroline Marsh Crane, and
Miss A. Ellen Stanton. Miss Crane, who had lived
much in Italy with her uncle, Hon, George P.
Marsh, also introduced the study of Italian at
Norton.^

Mrs. Metcalf felt great interest in the depart-

^ Miss Crane was lost in the wreck of the Schiller, and was
seen "trying to comfort a frightened child just before the waves
engulphed the sinking ship and with it the group on deck
among whom she knelt in prayer."

[ -53]

ment of music, and it was in her day that a com-
plete course in music was first laid out. She took
care that the resident teachers should be real
musicians, and that the girls should be taught good
music, rather than that which is simply showy.
Taking advantage of the proximity of Boston, she
also employed famous Boston teachers for the more
advanced pupils, and she encouraged the girls to
go to the city for the best concerts.

Always on the alert, always far-sighted, every
new movement in education was noted by her,
but never followed blindly. Elocution, gymnastics,
etc., were not allowed to become fads, but were
so treated as to be means of real development.

Mrs. Metcalf, moreover, had a personal gift for
the management of details. Many a woman owes
to Mrs. Metcalf's training her neatness in dress
and in the care of her home, her promptitude in re-
turning borrowed articles, her regularity in keep-
ing accounts, and a thousand other good habits
that mean a great deal in the way of satisfactory
living both to herself and to her family.

WHEATON seminary: AN APPRECIATION
BY JULIA OSGOOD

It is nearly forty years since my school days
ended, and there is a long vista behind me as on
my birthday, 1907, I sit down to write a brief ap-

[ 154]

preciation of Wheaton Seminary, of its place among
New England educational institutions, and of its
influence on my own development.

My first experience at boarding-school was in a
large and richly-endowed institution, where I made
delightful and lifelong friends. As far as my obser-
vation extended, in this school the studies, with one
exception, were conducted with strict adherence
to the chosen text-book. This was the case even
in English literature, and our readings in that de-
partment were confined to the brief extracts given
by the author whose book we studied.

I was not wholly of the crowd, but walked aside,
and endeavored to weigh and understand the life
that surrounded me. Accordingly, I discovered
that little mental development resulted from mere
text-book instruction. The pupils' work was
chiefly memorizing. I noticed they left school with
little more intellectual maturity than they pos-
sessed on entering. I also noted that there was
but slight gain in bearing, breeding, or power of
self-expression.

Later, I went to another endowed educational
institution, and the same lack of progressive de-
velopment in intellect and character was notice-
able in every class.

Then followed my introduction to Wheaton
Seminary. When I entered, the Senior Class was a

[155]

body of young women of earnest purpose, attrac-
tive in bearing, and superior in general appear-
ance to any graduating class I had seen elsewhere.
From this I was led to look for material of unusual
promise in the lower classes. On the contrary,
many of the younger pupils, here as elsewhere,
were marked by rusticity or provincialism, and
inadequate power of self-expression; girls of whole-
some stock and excellent natural endowments, but
quite undeveloped.

This change of the ordinary undeveloped girl
into the winning and superior woman was the
result of the wisest and noblest pedagogic ideals,
as put in practice by the Wheaton faculty.

From the beginning, I was overjoyed and lifted
up by the body of fine women who became my
teachers at Norton; and in no previous school had
I found the equals of some four or five Wheaton
instructors whom I came to know intimately.

Foremost among them was Miss Mary J. Cragin,
who combined such loveliness, intellect, and nobil-
ity that she remains unique among the women I
have met. At the time I knew her, she appeared
to be the most intimate friend of all who surrounded
her. I never heard of a case of jealousy among
her girl lovers, nor did I hear of one who was not
ofi^ered such a draught of love from Miss Cragm's
true heart that to measure it seemed impossible.

[ 156]

She was a woman of versatility and ripe culture.
She was clear and masterful in psychology. She
was my best teacher in mathematics — she was
my best teacher in whatever she taught me. I
studied mathematical astronomy with her, and
the heavens since then have been one of my richest
sources of pleasure. With her I spent my first
night-watch, tired and somewhat skeptical, await-
ing the shower of the Leonides; and the shooting
meteors of that night were so brilliant and tumultu-
ous and multitudinous (1867) that it stands apart
among my heavenly experiences.

General literature with Miss Cragin was in itself
a liberal education. One New Year's Day, some
forty years ago, she rendered memorable by reading
to us Robert Browning's poem, "Pippa Passes."
Other women might have read it to us at Christ-
mas or Easter ; Miss Cragin alone would be sure
to do so on the day of days, the day the poem cele-
brated. What she brought to us outside of our
studies was amazing.

No one person has ever done so much for me
in regard to the understanding of music. She
read to a little group of girls, of whom I was one, a
critical estimate of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata,
published in the "St. Louis Journal of Speculative
Philosophy." When we had read and discussed
the Essay, Miss Cragin arranged to have an ac-

[ 157]

compHshed pianist come to Norton and play the
Sonata for us. I was never so prepared as then
to receive and perceive the soul of music. In other
arts she w^as a correspondingly great stimulus.

I see her nov\^, moving quickly and silently
through the halls, an atmosphere of quiet joy
seeming to emanate from her person. Or I see her
in the class-room, her noble, clear-cut features
worthy of the finest cameo; her eyes searching, but
full of kindness; her enunciation clear and perfect.
She was generally gowned in gray, a pale gray,
with delicate blue at throat and waist, most charm-
ing to the eye, especially so in a community where
utility in dress was paramount. I should say she
was the first woman I had ever seen artistically
clad in a New England class-room.

One of the last beautiful days I spent with Miss
Cragin was June 4, 1868, towards the close of
her last year at Wheaton, when a large party of
"her girls" went with her to the woods, finding
more wonderful flowers and living creatures than
I have ever met on any subsequent excursion.
She seemed to open our eyes to all the woodland
inhabitants. I came home loaded with treasures,
among them two freshly born Luna moths, held
through our long tramp with great care, wings up,
so as not to destroy the exquisite apple-green
down of their plumage.

[ 158]

Among the distinguished Wheaton teachers, a
prominent place is due to Miss Mary E. Blair.
From her I first learned about the Ramayana and
Mahabharata, and it was owing to this early stimu-
lus that I was later led to study the remarkable
German translations of these glorious Oriental
poems.

Miss Blair was the first teacher who sent me to
original sources. While studying the history of the
Middle Ages in her classes, I fell in with a line of
books quite new to me, and as interesting as the
Arabian Nights had been in earlier days. Chief
among them were Neander's "Church History"
and Ranke's "History of the Popes." Not alone
in class did Miss Blair share with us her intel-
lectual riches. During her evening "half hour"
in the girls' parlor she read to those who cared to
listen wonderful bits from the world's great litera-
tures; often reading in fluent English from a vol-
ume of untranslated French plays, or other books
as yet inaccessible to us. She had few if any inti-
mates, but her position among the pupils was an
enviable one. I have never seen a woman under
similar conditions who was so loyally accepted
at her true worth. We all understood her, or at
least we understood her enough to be proud of her.

• • • • ■ • • * ;

[In the Natural Sciences, also, the methods at

[ 159]

Norton were stimulating.] A careful study was
made of the birds and insects found in Norton.
To each girl was assigned a particular species of
bird to watch from its arrival in spring, through
nest-building and the breeding period. The facts
thus gathered were recorded by each observer in a
series of monographs of genuine value on account
of their verity. They are, I believe, among the
school archives.

I had already taken two courses in Botany with
men whose names are now famous, but recognizing
that better work was done at Wheaton in that
branch, in my last term I studied Botany for the
third time, gaining an interesting acquaintance
with grasses, ferns, and mosses as well as the so-
called flowering plants. Botany as thus studied
has added materially to the delight of every new
country I have visited, and has ever since been so
thoroughly a part of myself that I can share it
without efi^ort with every child who becomes my
companion in wood or meadow. . . . [In my last
term] I also reviewed the mathematics I had taken
in other schools [studying them with one of the
younger teachers]. For this reason I did not gradu-
ate at Wheaton; I was already engaged as a teacher,
and wanted to be familiar with the Wheaton
methods of teaching the studies allotted to me.
This necessitated the reviews of which I have

[ i6o ]

spoken, and prevented my taking Butler's "Anal-
ogy" with the graduating class.

• •••••••

Mention must be made of one of our visiting
teachers, Mr. Stacy Baxter, selected by Mrs. Met-
calf to instruct the girls as to the best delivery of
their poems and essays. He was unique at that
time, and would still be so among those who were
once called "elocution teachers," and who are
now styled "professors of vocal culture." Mr.
Baxter taught primarily the beauty of simplicity,
of modest fearlessness, of conscientious purity,
and delicacy of enunciation. He stimulated us to
be our best selves, and to express what was best
in us by means of our voices. The few lessons I
had from him rank among Wheaton's important
gifts. Mr. Baxter's work in the school was in har-
mony with the high character of the instruction
in other departments, and his weekly visits were
salutary and joy bringing.

The next inquiry of moment is this: By whom
were these invaluable teachers selected and held
together, and how was it that each was allowed
such freedom and individuality in her work ?

To explain this we must turn to Mrs. Caroline
C. Metcalf, Principal of Wheaton Seminary from
1850 to 1876. While still a pupil, I ventured to
ask Mrs. Metcalf how she managed year after year

[ 161]

to select and maintain a corps of such superior
teachers. She answered that being human she
of course made mistakes, but that she "neither
continued in them nor repeated them." She also
knew that freedom of method is the prime condition
of excellence in teaching. In writing a recommen-
dation for me, she said: "She will do good work,
if you let her work in her own way."

Mrs. Metcalf's period was one of broad hospi-
tality at the Seminary. When I was a pupil at
Wheaton my dear young brothers, coming to
Norton for a day, dined with me at the Seminary
table as a matter of course, and the same privilege
was extended to cousins and friends.

Lacking, perhaps, in some of the feminine
graces, Mrs. Metcalf was none the less competent
and powerful as an executive. I can think of her
only as a great general, with deep knowledge of
human nature, and keen appreciation of its vari-
ous excellencies. She selected her lieutenants as
with the power of a divining-rod. She tolerated,
yea, supported the influence in the school of
women with whom she was personally neither in
tune nor touch, but whose superior gifts she willed
to consecrate to the service of Wheaton. She was
able and willing in certain directions to subordinate
herself in order to permit fullest expansion to those
whom she had elected to work under her. What

[ 162]

type of woman could have done more to advance
the highest development of the Seminary ?

I believed the Seminary had reached its acme
in the sixties; but twenty-five years later I found
it was still growing. It was hardly to be expected
that a school which in the sixties was using meth-
ods that to-day are still called ideal, should make
marked advance in its curriculum, yet it had done
so. The high standards of earlier days were main-
tained, the library was enlarged, a collection of
good photographs and Japanese prints was in-
stalled, a well-equipped laboratory was added to
the plant, modern languages were taught by native
teachers, and the history and criticism of art was
given a prominence accorded in few schools, for
it was continued through all four years of the

course.^

* The love of beauty had always been one of the vital forces
in the education at Wheaton. No one who remembers the wo-
men of the early and middle years of the Seminary can doubt
that. When Mrs. Metcalf gave the school a half holiday one
morning after a snowfall and sent the girls for a sleigh-ride
through Neck Woods because Miss Cole had said they must
see the Woods in their supreme beauty before one touch of
sunshine had dissolved their charm, it was an act characteristic
of the emphasis laid on essentials in the school. But in the early
years, though nature was so loved, there was little opportunity
there or anywhere in New England to study art. Yet after all,
thanks to Mrs. Wheaton, who made a generous appropriation
for the purpose, Wheaton was one of the very first schools in
the country to have a good art department connected with its

[ 163]

It was, however, in the social atmosphere that
the school had made most progress. Under Miss
Stanton's jurisdiction the living-rooms became
more attractive, some of the trivial rules were done
away with, — for instance, there were no more
"Sunday stairs," — Miss Stanton's high breeding
and beautiful manners were an incentive to the
girls in the direction of deportment. She was a
gracious and delightful hostess, and dispensed the
hospitality of the Seminary with the freedom Mrs.
Metcalf's example had taught the children of
Wheaton to rely upon.

Miss Stanton had gathered about her in the
nineties a body of teachers so unique and admirable
that I could compare them with none others except
the famous band of the sixties. Chief among them
was Miss Clara M. Pike. Thoroughly equipped
as a teacher of the Natural Sciences, she constantly
raised the standard in her department. She had
the love and confidence of all the girls, and watched
over the details of their health and happiness with
a wisdom and patience having its root in the most

library, and encouraged by this, art-loving alumnae (notably
Miss Eleanor Norcross, the artist) had added many treasures
gathered in foreign travel. Both Miss Haskell and Miss Stan-
ton had a genuine love of art, and later, vphen Miss Stanton
placed the department under the management of Miss Osgood
herself, it became one of the most inspiring as vv^ell as one of
the most delightful departments of the school. — Ed.

[ 164]

beautiful spirit of motherhood. For more than
thirty years she poured out in the service of Whea-
ton all the riches of her heart and brain and enthu-
siasm.

The classics were taught by the thorough and
scholarly Miss Elizabeth H. Palmer, who has since
won Yale's Ph.D. and an important college posi-
tion. For some time Miss Heloise E. Hersey di-
rected the literature classes and lectured to the
school every week. Later Miss Bertha K. Young
(now professor at Mt. Holyoke) had charge of the
department of literature, and was worthy of her
predecessors. I cannot speak too highly of the
standards she set for herself and her pupils. In-
struction in German was given by Fraulein Struck,
a native, well born and bred, and highly compe-
tent, whose unique qualifications have since been
recognized by one of our leading colleges. French
was taught by Dr. Jean Mure, a Frenchman twice
diplome of the University of France, and cultured
in art, literature, and science. For a number of
seasons. Professor Charles Young of Princeton, the
leading authority on the sun, spent a week at the
Seminary, lecturing twice daily to the whole school.
The presence of this savant as a brief resident at
Wheaton was a great stimulus to the girls in their
study of science. Besides the teachers above men-
tioned, there were many others in subordinate

[ 165]

positions who gave true service and are gratefully
remembered.

Looking back upon the Seminary at this period,
there are but tv^o adverse criticisms that could
be made, i. e.y the buildings and their equipment
were inadequate to the growing demands of the
public, and the rules of the school were in some
directions too chafing for the expanding and self-
directing girl of the approaching twentieth century.
But the work was broad and delightful, the social
life charming and intimate, and the guidance of
Miss Stanton so based on integrity and tempered
by graciousness and refinement, that I felt too
many could not be brought under the Wheaton
influences of that time.

As we have seen that back of the eminent corps
of teachers for which Wheaton has so long been
noted, there stood a principal who was responsible
for their selection and for the quality of their work,
so back of teachers and principal was the board
of trustees, and, most important of all, Mrs.
Wheaton, who was, as it were, the cornerstone of
the institution.

Among the trustees I must mention the name
of that benignant Christian gentleman. Dr. Plumb,
whose long term of service has been a constant
blessing to Wheaton Seminary.

Mrs. Wheaton, in her simple and dignified

[i66]

dwelling opposite the Seminary, for seventy years
worked out plans for the welfare of the school,
gave it her love, her intellect, her fortune. In my
period she was not personally known to the pupils
till they became seniors and passed on into the
Alumnae. Years later I realized that with full
power to help or hinder, in the ultimate analysis,
Mrs. Wheaton had always been the force that ad-
vanced the school. She it was who guided and
upheld the able lieutenants in the field. In final
results, the Seminary was what Mrs. Wheaton
willed it to be.

For many years she was in closest contact with
the beloved institution, hearing daily from the prin-
cipal and head assistant every detail of life and
work at the Seminary. So close was Mrs. Wheaton's
union with these beloved instruments of her bounty
that she could not bear the long separation entailed
by the summer vacation, but made Miss Stanton
and Miss Pike her guests during hot weather, sea-
son after season, at the Isles of Shoals, where she
spent her days planning for and brooding over the
future of the Seminary.

Few patrons have lived to see such full fruitage
from the seed they planted as did Mrs. Wheaton.
The alumnae, as Mrs. JuHa Ward Howe has re-
marked, are "notable for their solidarity.'' Many
of them have returned to the Seminary as teachers,

[ 167]

and made high records in educational work there
and elsewhere.

[Note by the Editor. Miss Osgood's paper here included
a list of some of the leading alumnae who have distinguished
themselves in various ways. But, as any such list must neces-
sarily be very incomplete, it has been thought best to omit it,
though it is fully recognized that the final value of the school
and the real result of the work to which Mrs. Wheaton gave so
much of her life, must consist in the character and usefulness
of the women who were educated at the Seminary. The record
is a fine one, and not less so for the undistinguished women
who have put their best energies into the making of beautiful
homes than for those whose names are known to the public]

I have spoken briefly of the noble patroness, of
the able principals and teachers, and of the unique
methods of teaching. The main points I want to
make are these: that Wheaton has stood for more
than half a century for the highest educational
ideals ; that she has led her students to original
sources in nature, and to first-hand authorities in
history and literature ; that she has trained her
children to abandon sentimentalism and inherited
prejudice, and to seek deep and just foundations
for their beliefs; that she has fostered independence
of thought; that development of character has
been regarded as inseparable from proper develop-
ment of intellect; that the instruction which led to
these results was given by a band of women of
rare ability and nobility, whose methods were m
advance of the period; that they took the ordinary

[ i68]

girl and so wisely and lovingly directed her that
she was no longer ordinary or commonplace, but
had control of her own powers, had rich sources
of pleasure and usefulness at her command, and
knew where to look for further help and develop-
ment. It is not too much to say that Wheaton
women are very earnest in their lives, and that
they centre in the community rather than in them-
selves. Finally it appears that Wheaton was a
school of life on a broad and natural scale, that
it was so because Mrs. Wheaton was the informing
power that sustained and directed it, and to her I
again, and more publicly than has before been
possible, give my profound salutation of love and
gratitude for the gifts I received through her from
Wheaton Seminary.

CHAPTER X

TOWN AFFAIRS

The interest that Mrs. Wheaton always showed
in the town of Norton is brought out clearly in the
two following papers written for the Wheaton
Memorial Meeting in 1906.

PAPER OF MRS. DAVID A. LINCOLN (mARY J.

bailey), class of 1864

I was quite young when I knew Mrs. Wheaton,
and have met her but few times in the nearly forty
years since I left Norton. At first thought it would
appear that her life had had no direct influence
on mine. But I can see now that but for her I
might never have been a pupil at Wheaton Semi-
nary.

Soon after the death of my father,^ Dr. Blodgett
— a dear friend of ours — supplied the pulpit at
Norton, and asked Mr. Wheaton if he knew of
any opportunity there for a widow with three
young children to support and educate. Mrs.
Wheaton reminded her husband of his desire to
find some capable woman to take charge of his
^ Mr. Bailey was a minister.

[ 170 ]

boarding-house connected with the new straw shop,
and suggested that he go over to Attleboro and
offer the position to this friend of Dr. Blodgett's.
I remember well the day when Mr. Wheaton and
Mr. Kelley drove up to our door. My mother sent
us children out to play during their call, and we
watched with eager curiosity until the carriage
drove away. Then we learned that we were to go
to Norton to live.

Mrs. Wheaton was one of our first callers in
the new home, and always showed kindly interest
in my mother's welfare. It was through her that,
when the straw business was given up, my mother
had the chance to board the men who built the
new boarding-house.

I remember also, the summer when I was trying
to earn the money for a new dress by picking and
selling berries, that I usually found a ready sale
for them at Mrs. Wheaton's door, and she fre-
quently commended me when the berries were
clean, large, and ripe.

Another vivid picture is that of the annual
evening parties at Mrs. Wheaton's, to which
many of the church people were invited. This
party and the reception at the Seminary were the
great social events of the winter in those days, and
I was a happy girl when I was old enough to be
invited. It was from Mrs. Wheaton's gracious

[i7> ]

courtesy, and her kindly interest in each guest on
these occasions, that I received my first lessons in
social etiquette. I can see her queenly figure as
she stood at the door to welcome us, — that pe-
culiar forward movement of the body before the
feet advanced, as she led us out to the dining-
room: I taste again the crisp, thin biscuit which
she always served, and I roam again through the
upper rooms where the young people gathered for
some game.

Another time, after leaving school, A. W. was
visiting me, and Mrs. Wheaton invited us to dine
with her. A roast of beef was placed before Mrs.
Wheaton, which she proceeded at once to carve,
Mr. Wheaton meanwhile making ineffectual ef-
forts to separate the joints in the boiled fowl at his
end of the table. Presently Mrs. Wheaton said in
a low tone to the waiter, " You may take this beef
to Mr. Wheaton and bring the fowl to me," and
on receiving it, she raised her glasses, — you will
all recall that characteristic gesture, — applied her
knife at once to the vital point, and the joints were
quickly severed; and at the same time she kept up
her lively interest in our conversation. That ex-
ample of simple dignity and imperturbability was
never forgotten.

When my pupils have told me of their success in
making the Park St. Cake from my Boston Cook

[ 172 ]

Book, I have taken great pride in saying to them,
"That recipe was given to me when I began
housekeeping, by Mrs. Wheaton."

My mother often told me in later life of Mrs.
Wheaton's sisterly interest in warning her of un-
desirable companions for her children, of her soli-
citude for my health after my first long illness, and
her fears that I might form unwise friendships.

My most tender memory of the woman whom
we honor to-day is that of her neighborly and
generous assistance to my mother during the last
days of my brother's life. While many neighbors
were really helpful in bringing in dainties to the
sick one, or in sharing her untiring watch at his
bedside, and others hindered more than they
helped by their too frequent calls merely for in-
quiry, Mrs. Wheaton gave most practical help by
sending a large basket of cooked food for the fam-
ily, with the promise to renew the supply as long
as needed.

I found, among some old papers in my desk, this
note, the only one I ever received from Mrs.
Wheaton.

This note, which Mrs. Lincoln read at the meet-
ing, consisted of only two lines. It was one of the
first orders received by her for her now famous
Cook Book, and was accompanied by a check.

[ "^n ]

PAPER BY MISS MABEL HAYWARD PERRY,
CLASS OF 1896

In the summer of 1829, ^^^ Hon. Laban M,
Wheaton brought to the Httle town of Norton his
bride, the beautiful EHza Chapin, of Uxb ridge, Mas-
sachusetts. For 'seventy-six years Mrs. Wheaton
was a resident of the tow .r life among the

village people was a constant benediction. By her
gracious sympathy, her gentle courtesy, and never-
failing tact, she won the hearts of both young and
old. Truly, she was an ideal Christian gentlewoman,
whom the town deeply respected and loved.

On the other hand, it was manifest that Mrs.
Wheaton loved Norton. To her it represented the
magic word, "Home." When summer came,
however, for a few months, she left the village
and spent her time at the Isles of Shoals, her favor-
ite seashore resort. Nevertheless, when autumn
brought her to the quiet town again, she often said
to old acquaintances, "Dear old Norton! How
glad I am to see it once more."

It would be impossible to speak of all the bene-
volent deeds and various philanthropies for the
benefit of the townspeople which originated in this
dear woman's heart.

How Mrs. Wheaton loved the Seminary is un-
derstood by all. It is not generally known how

[ "74 ]

pleased she was when a pupil from the town en-
tered the school and later was graduated, nor
does any one know how many girls, rich in am-
bition, but poor in worldly goods, this kind-hearted
friend enabled to attend the school.

Nowhere is Mrs. Wheaton missed more than
in the Trinitarian Congregational Church, of which
she was an earnest member.* Until physically
unfit to be present, she might have been seen on
every Sabbath morning in her accustomed pew.
The church was founded in 1832. From its organi-
zation until the present time the Wheaton family
have given most liberally towards its financial sup-
port. In recent years Mrs. Wheaton presented the
society with a cozy chapel, later remodelling and re-
furnishing it, and gave a tower clock to the church,
which is a constant reminder to the passer-by
of her thoughtfulness. In 1882 the whole church
was rebuilt, mainly at her expense. Besides all this
Mrs. Wheaton regularly contributed most gener-
ously to the church. The treasurer of the society
often tells us that when funds were low an unex-
pected check would come bearing her signature.
At her death she left a gift of money to the church;
but were not her love and devotion to the society,
and the influence of her pure and noble life, the
greatest gifts of all .?

^ She was the last of its charter members.
[ 175 ]

On the town of Norton Mrs. Wheaton bestowed
the generous gift of a free pubhc Hbrary, which
adds to the long Hst of her good deeds. The hbrary
building stands at the head of the main street of the
town, on one of the choicest sites of the village.
Besides the gift of building and grounds, this kind
benefactress gave a check for $1000 for the pur-
chase of books. Thus she ministered to the refine-
ment, culture, and advancement of the citizens of
Norton, who will always feel the uplifting inspira-
tion of her presence when they behold the build-
ing which will stand as a memorial to her life and
name for many generations.

A few years before Mrs. Wheaton's death she
gave the grounds where the High School stands
to the town. Although the Seminary was her first
and best beloved object, she was greatly interested
in this public school as well, and gave ;^iooo to-
wards equipping the building with a laboratory.

I have spoken solely of the large public bene-
factions of our friend. Before concluding, I should
like to tell of a few little kindnesses which sweet-
ened the Hves of some of Mrs. Wheaton's neigh-
bors. Half of these deeds of love will never be
known, for Mrs. Wheaton never did good ostenta-
tiously. However, there are many families in
town who would tell you, if they were here, that
in hours of affliction and poverty Mrs. Wheaton

[176]

was to them an angel of mercy. At Christmastide
there were many hearts surprised and gladdened
by a generous present of money. During her resi-
dence in the town a number of fires occurred,
destroying the houses or barns of neighbors. To
these unfortunate ones she sent her check. Mrs.
Wheaton was sympathetic and broad-minded.
The individuals helped were often newcomers to
the town, and represented various nationalities
and creeds. She was no respecter of persons in
the narrow sense, and was kind, courteous, and
affable to all sorts and conditions of men, and
made everybody feel at home in her presence.

During the last years of her life Mrs. Wheaton
was seen but little outside of her own home. On
all pleasant days, however, her carriage might
have been seen; and we knew that the dear old
lady was enjoying the delightful drives of Norton.

Before she grew so feeble, she made many calls;
and always welcomed friends at the Wheaton
Mansion. Her interest in all about her was ever
apparent, and in the last year of her life she was
keenly enthusiastic over all improvements pro-
posed in the town. Soon it will be a year since Mrs.
Wheaton was among us. Her sweet face and
gentle, kindly voice, will always be remembered
by those whose privilege it was to know her. The
children of future days will hear her name and

[ -^n ]

revere it. Thus she Hved among us: simply,
quietly, beautifully radiating love and kindliness
everyw^here around her. The tov^n of Norton will
forever cherish and honor its benefactress, Mrs.
EHza Bayhes Wheaton.

The remodelling of the church, referred to by
Miss Perry, v^as a matter of great interest to Mrs.
Wheaton. All the Wheatons had taken part in the
building and equipment of the original structure
fifty years before, and in 1851 Mrs. Wheaton her-
self had given an organ. It w^ould perhaps have
been easier, and scarcely more costly, to demolish
the old church in 1882, and build anew from the
foundations, than to remodel it, but Mrs. Wheaton
could not bring herself to destroy completely the
house planned by the revered " Father Wheaton,"
in which her loved husband had worshipped.
Accordingly the main walls were left standing, and
the old bell, "Mother Wheaton's" gift, was re-
tained, though everything else was changed. One
of the alumnae recalls the stress she laid on making
the seats very comfortable, saying earnestly that
she wished the congregation to be really "at ease
in Zion."

A year or two earlier she had given a parsonage
to the society. When the health of the minister
had made it necessary for him to resign, and it

[ 178]

proved too heavy a tax on his strength to supply
the pulpit himself for the three months before his
resignation v^as to take effect, she at once sent the
following letter to the church committee: —

Dear Brethren, — In view of the condition
of our Pastor's health, I am moved to say to you
that I will be responsible for the expense of sup-
plying the pulpit from this time to Sept. i, so that
you can make this offer (through the Society) to
the Pastor, to continue his salary, you paying that
as usual as a Society, and supply the pulpit
through my offer to you.

Yours in Christian fellowship,

E. B. Wheaton.

Perhaps the pastor never knew that he was in-
debted to Mrs. Wheaton personally for this relief.

In 1885, Mrs. Wheaton paid ;^200 for the Trini-
tarian Congregational Church, and an equal
amount for the Unitarian as well, for perpetual
membership in the General Theological Library
Corporation of Boston, thus giving the pastors of
both churches this valuable opportunity for study.

Stanch Trinitarian as she was, she seems al-
ways to have taken great pleasure in helping her
Unitarian friends in all matters in which she could
do so without accepting their creed. A letter from

[ 179 ]

one of the Unitarian ministers of Norton, asking
her if she would allow some one employed by her
to give him a day's service, begins: "I have been
to you many times, asking that you would help
me to carry out some plan to benefit the public,"
thus showing the cordial interest she took in all
measures for the general good, whether initiated
by her own sect or party, or not.

The following letter from Rev. George H. Hub-
bard of Haverhill, Mass., who was her minister
from 1888 to 1896, shows the personal interest she
felt in her pastor's family.

LETTER FROM REV. GEORGE H. HUBBARD

I am very glad indeed to have the opportunity
of contributing a few reminiscences to the biography
of Mrs. Wheaton. ... I have every reason to
remember her with pleasure and gratitude. She
occupied a very prominent and vital place in the
church of which I was pastor, . . . and I am sure
that no other position save that of principal of the
Seminary could have brought me into closer touch
with her life or afforded better opportunity to dis-
cover the deepest springs of her character.

Coming to Norton as a young man not long out
of the theological seminary, I brought my bride
to the parsonage soon after the beginning of my
ministry there. Can I ever forget the deep interest

[ 180]

manifested by Mrs. Wheaton in the furnishing of
that first home, and in everything necessary for
the comfort of its occupants ? That she had done
much in the way of enlarging and refitting the
house for my predecessor did not make her any
less ready to do yet more for the newcomers. In
fact, her hberahty in the expenditure of money
for the comfort of her pastor or the necessities of
her church was a marked characteristic of her life.

That her provision was never meagre, but in-
stead always exceeded expectation, a single inci-
dent will show. In remodelling the church building
some years before, the vestry had been left in the
original condition. With the passing years, it had
become a somewhat dingy and unattractive place,
being seldom used for any gatherings. In view of
a prospective need, however, I suggested the de-
sirability of raising money that it might be put in
order. On hearing of my plan, Mrs. Wheaton at
once invited me to her home for a conference, and
having questioned me carefully as to my wishes
in the matter, assured me that she would see to it
that they were carried out. This promise she ful-
filled without delay, only departing from my plan
in that she expended fifteen hundred dollars where
I had asked for an outlay of not more than two or
three hundred. This is but one example of many
that might be given from my personal experience

[ i8i ]

of Mrs. Wheaton's habitually generous response
to every appeal that commended itself to her judg-
ment.

Nor were her generous gifts limited to her pastor
and his family and the church. Perhaps there were
few who knew as I did how manifold were her
bounties to the poor of the town, or to those in any
distress. A case of sickness or want in any home
was often relieved by a gift from Mrs. Wheaton.
No appeal was necessary. A simple statement of
the case was sufficient to enlist her sympathy and
insure her aid. And her interest in the town, and
especially in the young people and their needs, con-
tinually manifested itself in renewed gifts to the
library, for which she had already provided a
building that will be a lasting ornament to the vil-
lage, and in making it possible for many a young
woman to enjoy the privileges of the Seminary.

It was not, however, simply as a "Lady Bounti-
ful," freely and liberally meeting financial needs,
that I remember Mrs. Wheaton. There were even
more pleasant relations, as they were more direct
and personal. I always felt that it required no little
self-sacrifice on her part to approve the call of a
man so young as myself to the Norton pastorate;
for, as a matter of course, she would find more that
was helpful in the ministrations of one of maturer
mind and more conservative spirit. But I think she

[ 182]

put her own personal preferences in the back-
ground as a concession to the desires and interests
of the young people both in the town and in the
Seminary. Naturally, her feeling toward the young
pastor and his wife was somewhat motherly, and
both of us recall gratefully many a word of coun-
sel spoken by her, always in such a quiet, tactful
way that no one else knew anything about it.
When the little daughter came to our home, an
event in which Mrs. Wheaton took the deepest in-
terest, she very soon learned to speak of "Grandma
Wheaton," and the title was accepted graciously
as the most natural thing in the world.

One word of the motherly advice of which I have
spoken will never be forgotten. It was in the early
days of my Norton ministry that she called my
attention to the number of elderly people in the
congregation who, hke herself, found some diffi-
culty in catching all that was said from the pulpit,
and suggested that many would appreciate it if the
pastor would speak a Httle more slowly and a little
more distinctly when preaching. The suggestion
so kindly given was not unheeded, and many an
aged person in subsequent parishes has had cause
for gratitude to Mrs. Wheaton for the distinct pul-
pit utterance which is largely due to this timely
hint.

For a person of her years and conservative

[ '83]

nature, Mrs. Wheaton was remarkably tolerant
in her attitude toward the newer outlook and
modes of expression in theology. True, she was
somewhat startled when her pastor exchanged for
the first time with his Unitarian neighbor; and
when the organization of a Christian Endeavor
Society was suggested, she advised against undue
haste in the matter, the movement being yet in its
experimental stages; but, as the years went by, she
heartily rejoiced in the growing friendliness of the
two churches, and manifested a genuine and prac-
tical interest in the work of the young people.

The more than eight years of my Norton pastor-
ate were marked with numberless deeds of kindness
and words of friendly counsel from Mrs. Wheaton,
and our removal to other fields never lessened her
motherly interest in myself and the members of my
family. This interest she continued to the very
end, often extending to us a cordial welcome to the
enjoyment of her large hospitality either at her
home, or at the Shoals.

I shall ever remember Mrs. Wheaton as one of
the most prominent characters in that early parish,
a lady of the old school, courtly but frank, cautious
but tolerant, a bountiful giver, a firm friend, and a
true Christian, seeking earnestly the welfare of her
church, and the comfort and peace of her pastor.

CHAPTER XI

THE JUBILEE OF WHEATON SEMINARY

The close of the first fifty years of the hfe of the
Seminary, in 1885, was marked by a special cele-
bration. The most unique and charming feature
of this celebration was due to Mrs. Wheaton's
hospitality and generosity, for while in any case a
hearty invitation to join in the exercises of the day
would have been extended to all who had ever been
connected with the school, Mrs. Wheaton could not
be satisfied without a real visit from all the alumnae,
and all the old teachers, and therefore beds and
entertainment for two days were provided at her
expense for all who could be prevailed upon to
come. She included in her hospitality many of the
leading pupils who did not graduate. Never in the
world could there have been a more delightful
renewal of the friendships of girlhood by middle-
aged and elderly women than at the semicentennial
anniversary of Wheaton Seminary.

The school had now come to its blossoming time.
In its earliest days, most of the energy of its man-
agers had been employed in seeing that it was
firmly and deeply rooted in good ground. In the

[ 185 ]

time of Mrs. Metcalf it had become a flourishing
tree, full of vigorous green leaves. Now^ it w^as
ready to put forth rich and beautiful flowers.

Never was the old pun, "The best-bred girls are
the Wheaten-bread girls" (imitating the boast that
the best-bred boys are the Brown-bread boys), bet-
ter sustained by the good manners of the school-
girls than during the administration of Miss
Stanton. The Alumnae of fifty years, returning to
their Alma Mater, were touched and charmed by
the beautiful deference shown to them by the
schoolgirls of 1885, by their thoughtfulness for the
comfort of others, by their gentle voices and lovely
bearing.

Mrs. Wheaton's own mansion was filled with the
old principals of the school. At that time there had
been ten of them, all of whom were living, and most
of whom were present at the celebration. Mrs.
Cowles (once Miss Caldwell) was there, with her
eyes as bright, her cheeks as rosy, her brain as
clear, and her interest in all good things as living
as when, with but two assistants, she undertook
the task of educating the Wheaton girls fifty years
before in the one modest schoolhouse, now sur-
rounded by several large, well-equipped buildings,
in which the principal presided over a large corps
of highly trained specialists. Mrs. Beane, Mrs.
Barrows, Mrs. Emerson, Mrs. Holmes, were others

[ 186]

among the very early principals who came back,
gray-haired to be sure, but with hearts as fresh and
minds as vigorous as in the old days. Mrs. Metcalf,
who had piloted the ship through more than half
its voyage at that time, was there to meet the
throng of women to whom she was the principal of
the Seminary.

And to welcome them all, Mrs. Wheaton, the
girl of 1835, stood at her door, a noble and vener-
able figure, with her beautiful, loving smile. To the
younger women looking on it was an inspiring
sight to see this gathering of the women of the
elder day. It helped them to realize some of the
rewards awaiting those who have fought a good
fight from youth to age, and who have never for-
gotten in any press of the battle to love one another.

Mrs. Wheaton's entry in her diary for June 30,
1885, concludes : " My heart was full of joy. It was
a noble exhibition of talent and consecration by the
former pupils.

*' Anniversary 50th!!"

At this time Mrs. Wheaton was already seventy-
five years old, but full of vigor. Soon after that the
years began to tell, though she grew old very gently.
Up to fourscore she was an exception to the almost
universal rule, for her "strength" had not become
"labor and sorrow." After eighty she began to lay
aside first one occupation and then another.

CHAPTER XII

ACTIVITIES OF LATER LIFE

On the return of Mrs. Wheaton's brother, General
Samuel Austin Chapin, from California, in 1884,
Mrs. Wheaton invited him and his wife to make
their home permanently with her. One year later
she writes in her diary: "One year this morning
since Austin and Maria arrived from California.
I have enjoyed much since they came. We have
reason for gratitude for the health we four old
people have enjoyed."

But Mrs. Chapin soon became an invalid, a
paralytic, and several changes in the house were
made having special reference to her comfort. A
nurse became a regular member of the household.

Of the great circle of brothers and sisters, all so
dear to each other, in which Mrs. Wheaton had
grown up, few were now left. Her brother Adol-
phus had died at the age of seventy-eight in 1875,
and her sister Mary at the age of seventy-three in
1876. Only Mr. Judson Chapin of West Roxbury
and General Chapin now remained to her.

Though General Chapin was now an old man
himself, he was one of those men who never really

[ 188]

grow old, and he lightened Mrs. Wheaton's bur-
dens in a thousand ways, not only by his geniality
in the home, but by his interest in all the affairs of
the town where his family had formerly resided,
helping efficiently in the church, the public Hbrary,
and among the poor. His interest in the Seminary
was equally great. He was Secretary of the Board
of Trustees. It was fitting that a new residence
hall, built some years after his death, should, in
honor of him, receive the name of Chapin Hall.

In 1890 General Chapin paid a visit to California
to join in the reunion of the original settlers of the
State (called the "Forty-niners"), of whom he was
one. The journey was fatiguing, and the excite-
ment of meeting old friends was great. " The party
was received at San Bernardino," says a news-
paper clipping preserved by Mrs. Wheaton, "with
enthusiastic demonstrations, and during the ova-
tion, General Chapin, having made the most bril-
liant speech of the evening, in leaning over to pick
up a bouquet of flowers, as was supposed, fell to the
floor insensible and died in less than half an hour."
His last words were, "God bless the noble State
and the dear people of California."

He was a man who had made his mark wherever
he had Hved. When a boy in White Pigeon, Mich.,
he had borne a vaHant part in the Black Hawk
War with the Indians, and tradition says that his

[ 189]

tact and diplomacy in dealing with the chiefs,
united with his decisive measures, did much to
shorten the struggle. At all events, he " smoked the
pipe of peace" with the chiefs "with dignity and
goodwill." It was the only time in his life that he
was known to smoke, and he remembered the
"awful" strength of the long pipe till the day of his
death, saying in his old age that he "could taste it
yet." Furthermore, the title of Brigadier-General
was conferred upon him for his services in this war.
He was made one of the Trustees of the town of
White Pigeon, and also sent to Detroit to represent
that district in the legislature, being the youngest
member of that body but one. For more than
thirty years he gave his energies to San Francisco,
helping to infuse many of the best New England
ideas into the new city. As might be expected of a
Chapin, he was one of the original members of the
First Congregational Church in San Francisco,
and one of its earliest deacons. Meantime, he had
mining interests in what was then Utah Territory,
and while a resident of Virginia City "was twice
elected alderman and twice elected a member of
the Constitutional Convention which resulted in
the making of the State of Nevada." "Wherever
he went," says a manuscript obituary in Mrs.
Wheaton's own hand, "he found work to do to
benefit mankind."

[ 190 ]

MRS. WHEATON AT THE AGE OF SEVENTY-EIGHT

From a photograph

After his death, the man of the family on whom
Mrs. Wheaton most rehed was his only son and
namesake, Mr. Samuel A. Chapin of New York.
This favorite nephew took his father's place in her
heart, and for years her house was the place of his
home-coming. She was wonderfully cheered by
his frequent visits and his tender affection, which
filled the cup of her delights.

Mrs. Wheaton felt the loss of General Chapin
deeply. Her dearly loved brother Judson had died
in 1887, so that she was now the last of her family.
xA.nd she was eighty-one years old.

There was now no strong, efficient person in her
own home on whom she could lean, for Mrs.
Beane was growing old as well as Mrs. Wheaton.
Mrs. Wheaton still attended to all her business
affairs, but two years later she found her burdens
pressing so heavily upon her that she invited Miss
Lucy D. Tozer, a lady living in Norton, who had
been a Wheaton student, to become her private
secretary. This most satisfactory arrangement
continued till Mrs. Wheaton's death, thirteen years
later. The affection between Mrs. Wheaton and
Miss Tozer was very warm, and the relation became
still closer after the death of the other members of
the family, Mrs. Chapin dying in 1892, a few
months after Miss Tozer became one of the house-
hold, and Mrs. Beane in 1899. After Mrs. Beane's

[ 191 ]

death, a sister of Miss Tozer, Mrs. Mary E.
Thurston, came to assist in the increasing cares of
the home.

Mrs. Smith writes : " The mercy of God for which
Mrs. Wheaton always gave thanksgiving was cer-
tainly shown when these two sisters were led to the
doorway of this old home. No happier arrange-
ment could be conceived. When the necessary time
for adjustment had passed by, it came to this, that
Miss Tozer's return was looked for as for that of
a beloved daughter, that her presence meant joy
and comfort, that, indeed, a love and devotion like
that of a daughter was given back. To speak of
the marvellous manner in which Mrs. Wheaton's
former duties in business matters and her ways of
conducting household affairs were taken up and
carried on by this dear lady is impossible, for words
cannot do it justice. Mrs. Thurston's kindly pre-
sence increased this delight and comfort. Their
nieces flitted back and forth in all their youth
and joyousness, adding their part to this lovely
old lady's sum of happiness.'*

In November, 1892, Mrs. Wheaton arranged
her affairs in such a way that her banking busi-
ness could be transacted by Miss Tozer. Though
she was still able to go to Boston sometimes, such
an arrangement was necessary because of her in-
creasing infirmities, for she was ill with rheuma-

[ 192 ]

tism all through the following winter. Gradu-
ally, as her eyesight began to grow dim, she gave
up writing her own letters, dictating to Miss
Tozer instead, but to the last, every letter was a
model of clear, concise statement of the matter in
hand.

Happily there was never any trace of failure
mentally in Mrs. Wheaton. She always conducted
family prayers in the morning, and the members of
the household noticed that she often used the
expression, "I thank Thee for reason" speaking
with great earnestness.

Though she had now definitely recognized the
presence of old age, and had reorganized her life
accordingly, it must not be supposed that she had
given up work. Her last years were as fruitful as
any in her life.

The routine was substantially the same from day
to day. Breakfast was at seven in the summer,
and at half-past seven in the winter. Then she
went to her desk, and attended to business and her
correspondence. The business of her life was
chiefly the spending of her large income so that it
might do the most good. Inside her cash-book she
kept for many years a newspaper clipping, viz.: "I
expect to pass this way but once; if, therefore,
there be any kindness I can show, or any good
thing I can do to my fellow human beings, let me

[ 193 ]

do it now, let me not defer nor neglect it, for I shall
not pass this way again."

This motto, in illuminated text, is familiar as a
Christmas card, and ornaments many writing-
desks of those who may or may not be guided by
it; but it was not for its outward beauty that Mrs.
Wheaton fastened it to the fly-leaf of her cash-book.
It expressed her purpose in her daily business. On
the reverse of the slip were three extracts of poetry
bearing similar sentiments: —

I. The stanza beginning, —

" I live for those who love me,"

and ending, —

'and the good that I CAN DO."

2. The stanza beginning, —

"True worth is in being, not seeming;"
and ending, —

"There's nothing so kingly as kindness,
And nothing so royal as truth."

3. Another, beginning, —

" Poor indeed thou must be, if around thee
Thou no ray of light and joy canst throw."

Mrs. Wheaton's mail was full of appeals for
help. Miss Tozer says that she "almost always
gave to those who asked, though not always as

[ 194 ]

much as was asked for." She was judicious and
wished to help others to help themselves, not to
help them to be idle or careless or extravagant.
And she did not wait to be asked before giving.
She made plans for the regular expenditure of
much of her income. When she received her quar-
terly dividends, after providing for the current
expenses of the home, which were small for a
woman who had so ample an income, she at once
set aside a large sum for the Seminary.

Though we have no complete record of these
benefactions to the Seminary, we may get some
idea of them from a Httle packet of papers contain-
ing memoranda of a part of her gifts during the
years 1890-1894, as follows: —

Contributions to the library.

The Seminary Woods.

A brick cottage called the Retreat.

Fire-extinguishers for all the buildings.

A fire-proof vault.

A windmill.

An engine-house for the laundry.

A check to the president of the New England
Wheaton Club* to meet the expenses of the club's
advertising.

^ It should be said that at this time there were two flourish-
ing clubs of Wheaton women, the New York Club, established
in 1886 by Mrs. Kate Upson Clark, a graduate of 1869, who

[ 195]

Having arranged for her family and for the
Seminary, Mrs. Wheaton next appropriated a sum
for the various institutions to which she contributed
annually, and for the private friends who without
her would have been destitute. Then a large sum
was laid aside to meet the constant unforeseen
calls coming to her from every direction. These
calls were not always calls from "others." If she
heard of illness in a family where there was not
much money, that, in itself, constituted a call upon
her. She felt that it was her place to help those
who could not help themselves. She never shirked
a responsibihty. She was much too sagacious —
shrewd, some would say — to fancy a responsibil-
ity where it did not exist, and there were those who
came to her with unwise or unreasonable petitions
for help who went away empty-handed. But she
took all real responsibility, and construed the word
"responsibility" very generously. For instance,

has been its president during most of its life, though now suc-
ceeded by Mrs. Sarah Foster Greene, of the Class of 1885, and
the New England Club, founded in 1889, largely through the
influence of Mrs. Estelle M. Hatch Merrill, of the Class of
1877, who was its first president, the office at present being held
by Mrs. Anna Spear Stebbins. Lately, through the influence
of Mrs. Ellen Grout Gould-Smith, a Worcester County Club
has been formed, whose president is Mrs. Ellen Hill Fisher,
Class of 1868. A fourth club has been established during the
present year, the Connecticut Wheaton Club, President, Miss
Belle J. Soudant of Collinsville, Conn.

[ 196]

an old friend of Mrs. Beane's daughters, through
illness and insanity, became destitute. Mrs. Beane
and her daughters were no longer living. Mrs.
Wheaton heard of the destitution, and at once
made arrangements for the lady to be well cared for
in a hospital until her death, sending a personal
representative to attend to the details of the
funeral.

She had a strong sense of individual responsi-
bility. Though she was liberal to the societies she
approved of, she did not act much through so-
cieties. Therefore she had to bestow much time
and thought on her gifts.

When she had set aside an ample sum for all
the purposes mentioned, the remainder of the
dividend was then carefully invested, so well
invested usually that of her five talents other five
often became available for her increasing charities.

Mrs. Wheaton was often asked for money loans.
If she approved of the object for which the loan
was needed, and if she had confidence in the char-
acter of the borrower, she almost always granted
the request. But she would seldom take a note in
such a case from a private individual. "If you
ever are able to pay me, do so," was her formula.
"If you are never able to pay me, perhaps you can
some time give the money to the Seminary." Of
course, with such views of money-lending, she was

[ 197 ]

free from anxiety about securities or interest, and
her unwillingness to lend on real estate is accounted
for, as she would have objected to a mortgage, and
especially to the foreclosure of a mortgage. She
would sometimes take a note from the church.
Of course, in any financial difficulty in the church,
she was the main dependence, and though she
always gave generously to its support, she would
have felt it wrong to take the full responsibility of
it from others. So when money had to be borrowed,
she would receive a note; but if the pressure con-
tinued, and she saw that it was bearing too heavily
on those less able to meet it than herself, she would
cancel the note.

No one will ever know all Mrs. Wheaton gave
away, for no one ever observed more perfectly the
principle of not letting her left hand know what her
right hand did. The letters that have been received
from the townspeople and the Wheaton women in
connection with the preparation of this biography
have been a revelation even to those who had before
realized that she was a very generous woman. One
old gentleman, who remembers her from childhood,
writes: "She was a person who wished to be
economical but not stingy, and liked to see other
people the same. She was a person who helped the
poor, and it was known only by the one helped and
herself. (No vain show for her.) When she did

[ 198]

people a favor, if they showed that they felt thank-
ful for it she was satisfied. She did not want it
known all over town."

An old lady writes: "I am eighty years old and
have always Hved in Norton, and have known
Mrs. Wheaton from childhood up. She did so
many good things I hardly know what to write. She
was always good to the poor, and would send them
money to help along."

A teacher who had met with unavoidable mis-
fortunes, speaks of "the sympathy, hospitality,
and money that were never withheld." She says:
"At a time of severe illness, she wrote my sisters,
'Spare nothing for S.'s comfort, and send the bill
to me.' And so it has always been. Anything that
I could add would only be a repetition."

One of the alumnae writes : " I had not seen Mrs.
Wheaton for some years, and I had no reason to
suppose that she knew I had special needs owing
to illness in the family, when one day I was sur-
prised by receiving a check for twenty-five dollars
from her. Her interest in those she had once known
was never lost, and she managed to keep herself
acquainted with their wants when they least sus-
pected it."

A lady who had been a neighbor of Mrs. Whea-
ton as a little child writes: "I was not brought
in close contact with her after I grew up. But I

[ 199 il

know she was always kind and thoughtful of my
mother, particularly when the boys were in school
[and college]. More than once she helped sub-
stantially in providing for their wants." Yet
when she gave this help, many years had elapsed
since the family had been her neighbors. Her con-
struction of the word "neighbor" was a large
one.

Mrs. Wheaton had an old schoolmate who, like
herself, lived to be very old, dying at the age of
ninety-four. Having lost her children, it was due
to Mrs. Wheaton that in her last years she was
surrounded by the comforts and refinements
required by one who had lived as a gentlewoman,
including visits from time to time to the hospitable
Wheaton Mansion. Happily, the old lady passed
to another life a year before Mrs. Wheaton herself,
so that she never had to miss the thoughtful and
delicate kindness which had sustained her so long.

One grateful recipient of Mrs. Wheaton's kind-
ness writes to her: " But for you I should now have
no sister." Another says that if she herself should
ever be in a position to help others, "it shall be
done for your sake and in your name." And her
niece, Mrs. Smith, says: "Always she has shown
the same kindness and generosity to her relatives^ a
great many of them" as to others, "and they have
always turned to her with the same free confidence.

[ 200 ]

It would be easy to multiply instances of her gen-
erosity, but perhaps enough have been given.

In a recent address to the New England Wheaton
Club, Miss Frances Vose Emerson spoke of Mrs.
Wheaton's manner of giving. She said: —

"While she felt that the Seminary had the first
claim on her purse, her charity did not end there.
There were public benevolences and private bene-
volences. All the great charities of the Congrega-
tional churches and others were generously re-
membered. Many a slender purse had a check
dropped into it so quietly and so tactfully that the
most sensitive feelings could not be hurt. I re-
member once hearing Mrs. Beane say, incidentally,
*You would be surprised to know for how many
overcoats Mrs. Wheaton paid last Christmas.'

"Second, Mrs. Wheaton's benevolence was
unique in its modesty. Even the gifts to the Semi-
nary, the scholarships, etc., were to be spoken of
only as 'given by a friend of the Seminary.' And in
the 'Receipts' of the missionary magazines you
would read, 'E. B. W., Norton, i^iooo.oo.'

"Third, she was remarkable in feeling so abso-
lutely as she did that she was only the steward of
her property. Others give lavishly, but they gen-
erally live lavishly. Mrs. Wheaton's home was
spacious, but very simple, and her manner of living,
while she was supplied with every comfort, was

[ 201 ]

never luxurious. She seemed to feel that for her
own use she was entitled only to the steward's
salary."

Miss Mary E. Blair, in her paper read at the
Wheaton Memorial meeting, emphasized this point.
"I honored Mrs. Wheaton," she said, "for her
high aims and the wisdom of her methods, and for
the economy in personal expenditure which is the
counterpart of bounteous giving.'*

Mrs. Kate Upson Clark, writing of Mrs. Wheaton
as "An embodiment of the Best New England
ideals," says: —

"One of the most interesting and instructive
of occupations for the philosophically inclined is
the study of wealth distribution. . . . Some one
has said that the way in which a man, rich or poor,
spends his money gives the truest index to his
character.

"To Mrs. Wheaton, there seems never to have
been any question regarding the disposition of her
property. As fortunes go in these days, it was not
large. When she was in her prime, and in the place
where she lived, it was immense. You or I might
have thought of the many pleasures which we
might, rightfully enough, have bought for ourselves
with this money. She lived the simplest life pos-
sible in her position, and seems never to have con-
sidered for a moment that she could procure for

[ 202 ]

herself any luxuries with her ample income. Her
fortune was a sacred trust, to be expended solely for
the school and the town she loved, — and never
was such a trust discharged with a more single-
eyed devotion to duty. In all my intercourse with
Mrs. Wheaton,! reaHzed this intensely. When the
calm, self-contained, typical New England woman
feels a great passion, she says little of it. No noisy
ardor shows in her speech or manner. You know
it is there only by the unbending, never-varying
course of the life. . . ,

"Mrs. Wheaton longed from her early girlhood
to do what she could to educate, refine, and uplift
her sex. Wheaton Seminary was founded at her
suggestion. It was the consistent purpose of her
long life to make this Seminary strong and pure.
It must turn out thorough scholars, but quite as
surely, they must be Christian ladies. The pressure
of her high and unchanging thought was felt by
every teacher of the faculty. Through them it
reached the girls. Even the densest must have
responded to it.

"As they went on in school life, and were per-
mitted to touch the absolute personality of Mrs.
Wheaton, it penetrated their very souls. When the
senior class reached the capstone of its social
privileges, that dainty and elegant tea-party which
for many years Mrs. Wheaton gave to each class

[ 203 ]

in succession, the final stamp was set upon their
souls. The deathless desire must have been born
within each one of them then, if never before, to
grow into just such an unselfish, home-loving and
home-keeping, thoughtful, high-minded, ever-pro-
gressive woman as Mrs. Wheaton evidently expected
that she was going to be.

"When a Wheaton woman won honors in teach-
ing, in the missionary field (best-beloved of all),
in literature, in art, or anywhere else, how she
rejoiced! 'Remember, the honor of the Seminary
rests with its alumnae,' she has said more than
once, — and the thought of her disinterested
ambition for every Wheaton woman has spurred
many of them to undertake tasks for which the
courage would otherwise have been lacking. Never
have I seen any one who so perfectly as Mrs.
Wheaton embodied the highest and noblest dis-
tinctively New England traditions."

Though Mrs. Wheaton was not a millionaire, yet,
with her large income and her small personal ex-
penditures for forty years after her husband's death,
she might easily have died a millionaire; whereas,
when the end came, it proved that the sum she
had to dispose of in her own will was hardly more
than double her annual income. The inference as
to the sum of her gifts is really startling!

[ 204 ]

It will be seen that her morning hours were very
full, for her gifts and loans were unnumbered, and
every one received careful consideration.

After the morning business was dispatched, she
read the newspaper, and then went for a drive
before dinner. It was a pleasant sight to see her
driving about the village, always with a pair of fine,
strong horses. She kept up the habit till within a
fortnight of her death, though for some years pre-
viously she had become so feeble that the coach-
man needed help in putting her into her very easy
carriage. Many of the schoolgirls would never have
seen her at all but for these drives. Her carriage
was one of the sights they liked to watch for.

After the early dinner, Mrs. Wheaton and Mrs.
Beane usually settled themselves for a while to
backgammon, the one game they both enjoyed.
About three o'clock, Mrs. Wheaton went to her own
room to rest until tea-time. The evenings were
spent either with visitors, among whom were usu-
ally some of the Seminary teachers, or in the de-
lightful old-fashioned recreation of reading aloud
something that all the family enjoyed.

Mrs. Wheaton's taste in books was dominated
by the human interest, and led her to choose chiefly
biography (especially the lives of people she had
known something about personally), or travels,
books of adventure, like Nansen's "Farthest

[ 205 ]

North," for instance, or stories. She had genuine
enjoyment in a sweet, good, wholesome story, and
read the best of current fiction, though she did not
show much interest in psychological novels. One
of her great pleasures was buying a collection of
new books for reading in the summer at the Shoals.

Probably most of her acquaintances will be
somewhat surprised to know that Frank Stockton
was a favorite with her, for she has not usually
received quite the credit she deserved for a sense of
humor.

Mrs. Wheaton's day terminated with a personal
tour of the house to see that every window was
fastened, or, if one must be left open, that it should
not be so beyond a definite point. This practice
she continued as long as her strength allowed.

There was little variation in the daily routine
we have traced for many of Mrs. Wheaton's later
years. The spirit of her home could hardly be
better illustrated than by some extracts from a
letter of one who served in her household for the
last fourteen years of Mrs. Wheaton's life.

"My remembrances of her are all pleasant.
When she first came to Norton, I was a child too
young to know about her. I have heard old people
in town, who have long since passed on, say that
when she came to town she had great beauty, and
was a lady. I was sometimes asked, when Miss

[ 206 ]

Tozer was called away, to go and sit with Mrs.
Wheaton for an hour. I remember at one time,
as we sat talking of many things in connection
with the town, she said this: 'When I first came
to Norton, as we drew near my future home,
I thought, "Why did Mr. Wheaton build a house
in such a place as this.^" It was nothing but a
swamp. . . . But now I like to sit at my win-
dow, and see what has been done for the public
good.' . . . She was a very good old lady and made
every one who came into her presence happy, and
was always doing something to make her house-
hold comfortable. I shall ever think of my stay in
Mrs. Wheaton's house as of a pleasant spot in
Hfe."

Can we realize what Norton must have been
when the Wheaton Mansion was surrounded by a
swamp instead of its gardens, when not one of the
group of Seminary buildings had even been thought
of, when the noble trees that shade its spacious
grounds had not been planted, when the pretty
little church, dear to the Wheatons, was unbuilt,
when there was no public library and no high
school in the village .? Yet this was the Norton that
Mrs. Wheaton saw when she was a bride of twenty.
That she looked out at ninety on a scene so full of
beautiful refined life was very largely due to her
own unselfish activity through all those many years.

[ 207 ]

The modest young girl perhaps felt some awe of the
rich and distinguished father-in-law to whom she

was presented in 1829, Y^^ ^^ ^^^ ^"^ ^° ^^^ ^^"
suggestion that his name has been carried all over

the world!

Mrs. Smith writes: "These vivid interests, these
wide outlooks, made her young. In the spring of
1889, my husband and I made her a long and de-
lightful visit. It seemed to us both that we had
never seen anything so beautiful and wonderful.
She was almost eighty, yet she was like a young
girl. That eager interest in the welfare of all about
her, that activity as of the prime of life, the elastic
step as that of youth, the upright form and expres-
sive countenance, full of goodness and beauty, —
so long as I can remember anything I shall remem-
ber these, and the dear gracious, pervading pre-
sence that seemed to make the very house alive, the
walls to speak of her, so that even after her death
one could almost feel the spirit within the rooms.

"Thirteen years later we were there again, but
there was a change. There was a little, delicate old
lady, so frail that it seemed a light wind might
blow her away. The beauty of the loving spirit was
still there, but the energy and vitality were gone.
Slowly and gently like a snow wreath she was
fading away."

CHAPTER XIII

MISS STANTON'S REMINISCENCES, INCLUDING
A PAPER BY MRS. WHEATON HERSELF

The two friends, outside her own family, who
stood nearest to Mrs. Wheaton in her old age were
Miss Stanton and Miss Pike. These friends visited
her almost every day, and told her all the little news
of the Seminary. Miss Stanton says that Mrs.
Wheaton showed remarkable delicacy in these
interviews. She never quizzed, though she was
interested in every detail. She was careful never
to interfere in any way whatever with the manage-
ment of the school. When a principal had once
been appointed, she felt that that principal was
always to be sustained. She wished the principal
to take the full responsibiHty belonging to her, and
the trustees to take the full responsibility belonging
to them. It is true she watched them with a keen
eye, yet she never interfered. She would not, for
example, give Miss Stanton any advice on the sub-
ject of making women members of the Board of
Trustees. Even when she was planning some large
benefaction to the school, she was careful not to
dictate in any way how it should be used. "/

[ 209 ]

should like to do so and so, if it is agreeable," was
her usual formula when she proposed to introduce
modern heating or lighting apparatus, or to add to
the library or art department, or to buy a telescope,
or to furnish the laboratory with compound micro-
scopes. She never wished Miss Stanton to say to
the trustees, "Mrs. Wheaton would Hke," etc.
Both her great reserve and her dignity of character
are shown by the fact that she never said anything
to Miss Stanton in these intimate daily conferences
about the Seminary that she would not have said
before the whole Board of Trustees.

It was a heavy trial to Mrs. Wheaton when Miss
Stanton decided, in 1897, to retire from teaching.
Mrs. Wheaton was then eighty-eight years old, and
she had hoped to have Miss Stanton by her side to
the end. After that she yielded more and more to
old age.

At the Memorial meeting of the New England
Wheaton Club, in 1906, Miss Stanton read a paper
of reminiscences, which is here given in full with
the exception of a few introductory words of greet-
ing to her own old pupils.

PAPER BY MISS A. ELLEN STANTON

Those were very happy years, and they have left
many "beautiful pictures hanging on memory's
wall." Standing out in relief are my pleasant rela-

[ 210 ]

tions with Mrs. Wheaton, whose friendship I highly
prized. It was her pleasure to listen to, and mine to
relate to her, the little daily happenings in the home
life at the Seminary. Seldom a day passed that
I did not visit her; and many a time, as I entered
the box-bordered walk that led to her front door,
has that door opened before I reached it, and there
would Mrs. Wheaton be standing with her smiling
welcome. She never tired of hearing about the
Seminary, or of talking over plans for its welfare,
for it was the centre of her most cherished hopes —
it was her idol, if so good a woman could have
an idol: at least, it was her child, the Minerva that
sprang from her active brain, and it was very dear
to her heart.

Mrs. Wheaton's was a symmetrically developed
and therefore a well-balanced character, with that
calm and serene temper that naturally resulted
from it. I never heard her speak a fretful word.
Her ideas were clearly cut and concisely expressed.
I remember accompanying her once on a business
and shopping tour when she was over eighty. She
visited banks and brokers' offices, where she seemed
as much at ease as in her own parlor. Her business
was promptly and definitely stated, and no one's
precious time was wasted. She was always treated
with respectful deference. In shopping she knew
exactly what she wanted, and concisely informed

[211]

the salesman in attendance. If the article was not
to be found in his department, and he attempted
to bring something else to her notice, as in his
opinion more desirable, she wasted no words, but
with a dignified and courteous bow left him with
his unaccepted remark on his hands.

If one may speak of "salient points" in a sym-
metrical character, I should say that system, order,
and promptness were prominent. If she had an
appointment with any one, she was sure to be on
the spot at least ten minutes, if not half an hour
before the time, and as long as she was able to
attend public worship, she was one of the first to
enter the church on a Sunday morning.

As she advanced in years, social functions be-
came burdensome to her. The last time I remem-
ber her being present on such an occasion was at
the celebration of her eightieth birthday in the
Seminary drawing-room. The 27th of September
has ever since been observed as a holiday by the
school. The drawing-room presented a gay ap-
pearance in its brilliant decorations of autumn
leaves. Mrs. Wheaton received the pupils as she
sat in a large easy chair, and, as one by one they
were presented to her, each laid a beautiful rose
on the table beside her. It was a pretty picture —
the woman of fourscore with her smiling face,
surrounded by the young girls and the roses.

[ 212 ]

For many years, Mrs. Wheaton spent her sum-
mers at the Isles of Shoals. I remember one winter
and spring she had not been as well as usual, and
as the time drew near for her to leave home, she
decided that she was too feeble to bear the fatigue
of the long journey. Her friends felt a little anxious,
as the air at the Shoals had been especially invigo-
rating to her, and had generally acted as a tonic
for the rest of the year. As the season advanced,
she was induced to reconsider her decision. It
was a hot, sultry day in July when she started in a
wheel chair for the Norton station. She rested a
few hours in Boston before taking the train for
Portsmouth. She was greatly fatigued on her ar-
rival there, but the boat-ride of an hour to the
Islands seemed to revive her. A wheel chair
awaited her at the wharf, and she was then taken
over the bridge up the long walk, bordered on
either side by scarlet poppies, to the hotel, where
strong arms carried her up the long flight of stairs
to her room. The windows were wide open, and
she seated herself in a big rocking-chair to inhale
the cool sea breezes. Presently she exclaimed, " Is
not this air perfectly delicious! " From this time
forth, her improvement was rapid. Her supper
and breakfast were sent up to her room, but after
this she was able, and preferred, to take her
meals in the dining-hall; and in less than a

[ 213 ]

week she walked down to the wharf and back
again.

Her life during those happy summers was as
systematic and orderly as it was in her Norton
home, and one day was nearly the facsimile of the
others. Breakfast between eight and nine — a
stroll upon the piazza where, seated in a rocking-
chair, she would watch the incoming boat that
brought the morning's mail. She would then re-
tire to her room, where she busied herself in read-
ing, writing, or dictating letters — for she had a
large correspondence. At eleven o'clock she ap-
peared ready for a climb over the rocks, equipped
in cloak, hat, and gloves,^ with an umbrella in her
hand, a shawl over her arm, and with the last copy
of the "Outlook" or "Congregationalist" for
reading.

Her favorite walk was along the piazza, and up
a footpath to the little stone church — down to
the turnstile into a rocky field, dotted here and
there with pimpernel, where the song sparrow's
note was as much clearer as the poppies were
brighter than on the mainland. Then came a rise
in the ground to Captain John Smith's monu-

' Mrs. Wheaton always wore gloves when going out, even at
the Shoals, and she preferred to have others do the same. She
was conventional in her habits, and never allowed any familiari-
ties.

[2.4]

ment — then over the rocks — past the little bury-
ing-ground, up, up, to a fissure in the rocks, which
formed a comfortable seat high above "Miss
Underbill's Chair," and which she was pleased to
call "The Reading Rock." Here she spread her
shawl, opened her umbrella, which had served her
as a cane, and seated herself to enjoy the splendid
view of the ocean, and listen to the reading.

She liked to return to her room in season for
a little rest before dinner, and the signal for de-
parture was a little speck far out on the horizon
which announced the approach of the noon boat.
Dinner at one, after which she stopped at the office
to receive her mail,

I remember one day, as she slowly climbed the
long flight of stairs leading to her room, she paused
to rest on the first landing near the top, and re-
marked: "There is one disease for which there is
no cure — old age."

Again in her room, she listened to the reading of
the daily news from the "Advertiser," and she
was always particularly interested in the fluctua-
tion of stocks. Then, perhaps, a little more reading
from some interesting book she would have at
hand. Then she was ready for two or three games
of backgammon. These she conducted in the same
orderly and systematic way that characterized
everything she did. Never a picket did she send

[2.5]

out to capture some venturesome enemy, but she
marched her men in solid lines round the board,
only disturbing the enemy when he was an ob-
stacle to her onward progress. I think she always
liked her partner to conduct her campaign in the
same way.

Then she retired for a long afternoon rest and
nap. At five she dressed for supper. Her toilet was
always immaculate, and she looked much refreshed.
There was usually a pink flush on her cheeks which
might have been coveted by a young girl. After
supper, she went to her favorite corner in the long
parlor, where she received her friends and acquaint-
ances who came to inquire for her health. At eight
she returned to her room, and soon after retired
for the night.

Occasionally, this daily routine was varied by
a trip in the little steamer Pinafore, that plied
between "Star" and "Appledore" every half hour,
and twice a day made the entire tour of the islands.
Or, in the evening, she would attend some lecture,
reading, or other entertainment in the Music Hall.

Mrs. Wheaton was a quick and keen observer of
the little details of life around her; nothing escaped
her notice.

Mrs. Charles has said: "One never sees what
Time is doing — only what he has done." But
here at the Shoals we could see what Time was

[2.6]

doing for Mrs. Wheaton. From year to year he
shortened her walks — from the "Reading Rock"
to Captain John Smith's Monument, and then to
the rocky field — to the turnstile and the little stone
church — to the end of the piazza, until they
ceased altogether. There was a pathos in her in-
quiry whether any one had been to the "Reading
Rock" that day. For she always advised others
to visit it when she could no longer go there her-
self.

When the summer was over, one could be quite
sure she would leave for home a day or two sooner
than the date decided upon.

But time is passing, and I must not linger in
these reminiscences. I will speak of but one other,
"The Fagot Party." In one of my calls I inci-
dentally mentioned that the Class of '91 was to
give a Fagot Party. Mrs. Wheaton inquired what
that might be. It was explained that we were
to have a fire in the drawing-room, and each
young lady who took part was to lay a fagot on
the fire, and while it was burning, she was to
entertain the assembled company with music, reci-
tation, reading, or in whatever way she chose.
Mrs. Wheaton immediately said, "I will supply
the fagots — I am having some old apple trees cut
down that were planted when I first came here —
they are dead now. Would it not be a good idea

[ 217 ]

for one of the girls, while her fagot is burning,
to give a little sketch relating to the Seminary?"
A few days after, when I called, she handed me
this manuscript — composed by herself, and writ-
ten by her own hand, in her eighty-second year, for
this Fagot Party: —

AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF AN APPLE TREE

In the autumn of 1828, — sixty-two years ago,
— when young Mr. Wheaton was laying the foun-
dation for what is now called the "Wheaton Man-
sion," I was brought from Cumberland, R. L, on
a load of fruit trees, — apple, pear, peach, and
quince. As the trees were unloaded, it seemed to
be a matter of some importance where I should be
placed, and my near companions. I was labelled
" Early Sweet," and the one next me "Maiden
Blush." It was decided we should be within sight
of the house. An orchard in those days was es-
sential to good living, for there were no fruit carts.
The early and later fruits, with the sweet cider in
the casks and nice straws for the young people to
use in drinking the juice, together with the making
of a winter's store of apple-sauce in a brass kettle
hung on a crane in a large open fireplace, — all
had an interest in the family where there was a fine
orchard.

It took a few years for us to amount to much in

[218]

theway of shade or fruitage. In theautumnof 1834,
our master and mistress seemed very busy in out-
side matters, and the following spring found young
maidens visiting the grounds. It was the opening
of Wheaton Seminary. Our two trees seemed to
be those of special attraction to the young people
for the fruit we bore. But after a lapse of years we
were sought for the shade we gave, and a seat was
placed under our boughs, and many were the chats
held there, mostly by the young maidens, but also
by some grave teachers; and I can recall even ex-'
Principals, who were having overtures to leave the
halls of Wheaton and go with the suitor to make
a home with him either in New England or in for-
eign lands, — and after a time these ladies ceased
to come to our shades. They had been captured,
and taken away.

But new attractions were presented, and, di-
rectly, about us was made a croquet ground, and
many a group of youth resorted there for games.
When weary of play, they would come to the seat
and chat, as young girls do. After a time the play-
ground seemed deserted for some new play, and
we were left more to ourselves, and a conviction
crept over us that we were not so attractive as in
former years. Even our mistress would come and
look at us with an anxious eye. We knew there
was invisible trouble, but we could not tell her

[ 219 ]

what it was. She ordered one thing and then an-
other, but all failed to arrest decay. The borers
were doing their deadly work, and so we became
unsightly and unfruitful, and our mistress gave the
order for our removal. And we have just been
uprooted, — but she has given us the promise that
we shall be cremated, and that the Class of '91 shall
be requested to sprinkle our ashes about the apple
trees on "Observatory Walk," that we may still
live to cheer the Wheaton girls.

CHAPTER XIV

A CRISIS

During the last decade of the nineteenth century,
great changes were taking place in the education
of girls all over the world, which had to be reck-
oned with by every school in the land. The half-
dozen years following 1894, when the Harvard
Annex became RadclifFe College, and the Presi-
dent of Harvard University first signed the diplo-
mas of its graduates, were probably the most
strenuous years ever known in the history of every
high-class school for girls in the United States.
Every teacher in those schools at that time will
acknowledge this, but the general public knew
little about what was going on. A short explana-
tion of the causes and effects of this crisis may
not be out of place here.

Though admirably equipped colleges for wo-
men had already existed for more than thirty years,
yet there had been a lurking doubt in most minds
as to whether they really stood for a culture com-
parable to that of colleges for men. The girls who
had hitherto been attracted to colleges were a picked
class in a different sense from that in which college

[ 221 ]

boys are a picked class, — they were highly intel-
lectual girls. The colleges had already had a very
appreciable effect on high-class boarding-schools,
for the daughters of the mothers who in the middle
of the nineteenth century had thronged these board-
ing-schools were often exactly those who grasped
most eagerly the new opportunities for college
training. High schools had sprung up everywhere
in which preparation for college could be made
without leaving home, and the very culture the
mothers themselves had gained at the boarding-
schools had so refined the home life all over the
country that one of the strong incentives to send
the daughters to the same boarding-schools had
been lost. Still, a college course for girls had by no
means become the fashion, even in the case of
highly endowed girls. It was questioned whether
it left them quite as feminine as they ought to be,
and in the same breath we were told that, after all,
the college courses open to girls were only femi-
nine reflections of masculine realities.

But when President Eliot countersigned the first
Radcliffe diploma, all this was changed in the
twinkling of an eye. The world at large did not
observe the change, but every high-class girls'
school in the country felt the shock within a year,
though probably not all noticed the connection
between the action at Harvard and the subsequent

[ 222 ]

ferment. The actual culture within the reach of
girls was perhaps not greatly increased by the new
arrangement, yet, when Harvard set its seal on
that culture, it seemed to most people as if the goal
had been reached at last, and that girls were no
longer shut out from the highest education in the
land. Then it became the fashion for girls to go
to college.

It was not to Radcliffe alone, or chiefly, that
the girls turned their faces, but to every other
college in the land whose doors were open to
women. All the girls whose brothers went to col-
lege began to demand a college course for them-
selves, whether they had any special love for study
or not.

Up to this time, very few of the best girls' schools
had given much attention to the technicalities of
college preparation. The girls who went to col-
lege usually fitted either in the large high schools,
or in some specialized fitting-school situated in a
college town. Occasionally, some gifted girl went
from a seminary to college, but such a girl usually
took the matter of fitting herself largely into her
own hands, and entered college in triumph.

Now, suddenly, all these schools were asked to
fit girls for Vassar, Smith, Wellesley, Radcliffe,
etc., and they found they had no equipment for
the purpose. To the uninitiated, it seemed as

[ 223 ]

though nothing was needed but to add a chair of
Greek. But this was soon seen to be quite inade-
quate. That a girl was a good Latin scholar, or an
exceptional mathematician, was no guarantee that
she would pass her college examinations, if she
had not been previously drilled on the examination
papers of the particular college to which she was
to be sent. A girl who had learned French in Paris
would sometimes pass her "Advanced French"
paper, and fail in "Preliminary French." A girl
who had lived in a library, and who had heard
nothing but the best of EngHsh all her life, would
be conditioned in English in her entrance examina-
tions, and maintain an A standing all through her
subsequent course. Of a class of equally thorough
students in Algebra, all the Radcliffe candidates
would pass triumphantly, and all the Bryn Mawr
candidates would fail ignominiously, or vice versa,
according to the special text-book used, for this
was before the present plan of intercollegiate coop-
eration was worked out.

The fathers and mothers of the brilliant girls
that failed naturally felt that the school they had
hitherto upheld was a superficial institution, and
the teachers were full of consternation. No leading
school could venture to say, " We do not fit for col-
lege," because that was sure to be interpreted as
a confession of inferiority. On the other hand, to

[ 224 ]

rearrange a school so that it could guarantee its
pupils entrance to all the colleges, meant a com-
plete readjustment not only of all its methods, but
of some of its aims. For whatever may be the
opinion of the laity, it is not true that the education
that leads up to successful entrance examinations
is the best possible education. Thousands of teach-
ers have had occasion to echo the words of the dis-
tinguished head of a great fitting-school for boys:
" I am not educating my boys. I am preparing them
for college."

Nevertheless, after 1894, few girls' schools could
even maintain their existence without a college
preparatory department. In all the best girls'
schools, when the crisis came, there was a strong
feeling that while there was reason for rejoicing in
the fact that the girls were going to college, yet,
in order to fit them to go there, much of the best
work of the school would have to be sacrificed to
mere drill. The teachers said little about it, and
set themselves heroically to adapt themselves to
the new conditions, but their hearts sank within
them.

At this juncture many schools failed altogether,
others became mere fitting-schools. Some intro-
duced a college preparatory department for the
few, and supplemented it by showy and superficial
finishing courses for the many. But none of these

[ 225 ]

plans could be even considered for a school of the
grade of Wheaton Seminary, which was one of
the small group of schools for girls that had been
the distinct forerunner of the colleges, a seminary
where for many years courses in literature, the lan-
guages, history, mathematics, chemistry, botany,
biology, geology, astronomy, art, and music, on a
level with many college courses in those same sub-
jects, had been maintained.

To Mrs. Wheaton, in her extreme age, it was a
very bitter suggestion that great changes must be
made in the Seminary merely that its pupils might
be fitted to go elsewhere, w^hen the aim of the
school had always been to give the most thorough
and complete fitting for life, and no pains or ex-
pense had been spared to keep it in touth with
modern progress. Yet the sacrifice had to be made,
and few incidents in Mrs. Wheaton's life show her
largeness of mind so well as her way of meeting
this problem.

One solution of it proposed was that Wheaton
Seminary should be transformed into a small col-
lege. But, with the splendidly endowed colleges
for women already established in New England,
there seemed less need of a small college than of
a school on the lines along which Wheaton has
always progressed, a school where there should be
an opportunity for quite young girls to be placed,

[ 226 ]

at the most impressionable age, under the personal
care of wise and cultivated women, whose interest in
the development of a noble and beautiful character
and sweet and gracious manners is as great as in
scientific research or literary art, but where all the
culture should be sound, and where a much
broader and deeper intellectual education should
be given than that furnished by even the best high
schools. Many girls need such a school as this
whether they finally go to college or not; but a
dozen years ago, it looked as if the colleges and
high schools together would crowd out all the
boarding-schools, — not only those that were super-
ficial, but the best ones, — with the fine, careful
training which was given silently in their home
life by a class of women who have had few equals
in character or in mental power.

It seemed to the guardians of Wheaton Seminary,
at this period, that even if that institution were
to become a college in the end, the change should
be evolutionary rather than revolutionary, that the
wisest course was to enlarge and strengthen the
foundations, and as one story after another was
added to the structure, to see that each was sol-
idly built.

To save the old ideals, while reaching out
towards the new ones, made such a demand for
expansion upon the school that large sums of

[ 227 ]

money were immediately needed. Though the
number of pupils was ebbing in every seminary
in the land, it was everywhere necessary to increase
largely the staff of teachers because so many
parallel courses of study must be provided, all re-
quiring highly-trained instructors. Under the
strain, many a modest but excellent school went to
pieces, and Wheaton Seminary itself, with all its
long and honorable history, felt the danger. If
Mrs. Wheaton had regarded herself as too old or
feeble to look the matter fairly in the face, it is not
unlikely that the school must have deteriorated
permanently.

Mrs. Wheaton had silently felt the danger for
ten years before it became acute. In the eighties,
she had talked of it with some of her relatives,
realizing that the demands made upon her own
private purse might be so great that she would
have little left to give to the friends most dear to
her of that large property which her own ability as a
financier and her personal economies had been the
means of accumulating, and which was distinctly
her own, aside from her inheritance from the
Wheatons. But she felt that she was holding all her
property in trust. Then she not only felt that it
was her place to see that the beneficent influence
of the Seminary was not curtailed in any way, but
" she felt the piteousness of the fact that the Semi-

[228]

nary was the only living child of Judge Wheaton's
branch of the Wheaton family." (Mrs. Smith's
paper.)

She was almost ninety years old when the crisis
came at last. At a time when she was ready to say
her "Nunc dimittis," feeling that her work in life
was done, — and we know how well it had been
done, — the immediate danger to the school was
suddenly brought home to her. It was one of the
bitterest hours of her life. But she did not flinch
from her new and difficult task. She sacrificed at
once almost half of her private property to put the
Seminary on a surer footing. As to the internal
management of the school, we know that she had
never interfered, but she entered into all the new
plans of the trustees and faculty with the greatest
interest. Mr. Edwin Barrows of Providence, who
has served on the Board of Trustees of Wheaton
Seminary longer than any other member, writes of
this time, after mentioning Mrs. Wheaton's "wis-
dom, prudence, generosity, and unusual business
capacity," as follows: "A signal example of her
courage and wise foresight was given in 1897.
When the trustees of Wheaton Seminary were
searching for a competent lady to place at the head
of our school as principal, Mrs. Wheaton came to
our assistance with the suggestion that we select a
man for the place, and more than that, she named

[ 229 ]

the person she thought best fitted to be our leader.
The trustees adopted her plan, and Rev. Samuel
V. Cole, D. D., was elected President of the Semi-
nary. His administration, during the ten years he
has been our leader, has abundantly demonstrated
the wisdom of the choice."

Dr. Cole had been previously settled in Taunton,
Mass., and was already a member of the Board of

Trustees.

In view of the freedom of life for women opening
at this time throughout the world, bringing them
into contact with men in entirely new directions,
it was thought well during the nineties to accord
women a place among the trustees, by electing to
the Board two of the alumnae who had been success-
ful teachers in this school and elsewhere: Mrs.
Annes A. Lincoln (Jeannie E. Woodbury) of Wol-
laston (Class of 1866), and Miss Annie M. Kilham
of Beverly (Class of 1870). Recently a third
woman has been added to the Board, the well-
known author and lecturer, Mrs. Kate Upson
Clark of New York (Class of 1869).

The curriculum was much enlarged about this
time. Not only was a college preparatory depart-
ment added, but entrance to the four years' Semi-
nary course was now based upon two years of work,
corresponding to that done in the first two years in
the high school, thus making the full course one of

[ 230 ]

six years, and carrying the pupils fully two years
beyond the boundaries of a high-school course,
while a large number of elective alternates was
offered. Six years of Latin, five of French, five of
German, and three of Greek were given in contrast
to the meagre course of Latin and French of the
early days. Five years of mathematics, not includ-
ing arithmetic, had now taken the place of arith-
metic and Euclid, which was the limit of mathe-
matics in Miss Lyon's prospectus. Six years of
natural science, five of history, and three of psy-
chology, etc., were arranged for. Six courses of
literature and seven of Bible study were offered,
while the high standards already prevailing in
music and art were sustained.

With the money so generously furnished by
Mrs. Wheaton, several new buildings were at once
erected, Chapin Hall, dedicated March 7, 1901,
is a residence hall with modern equipments. The
boarding-houses of seventy years ago were as
attractive as the homes of many of the girls who
were then pupils, but constant improvements have
been necessary to adapt them to the wants of the
girls brought up in twentieth-century homes.

A large and perfectly equipped gymnasium was
added in 1903, the architect's plans being super-
vised by Dr. D. A. Sargent of Harvard, who made
suggestions in regard to it, and gave the address

[ 231 ]

at the formal opening of the building. The gym-
nasium not only contains a clear floor space of
42 X 80 feet, but a stage with dressing-rooms, a
dozen piano practice rooms with deadened walls,
a running-track, a promenade, a fencing-room, a
swimming-tank, etc.

Both these buildings are in Colonial style, of
red brick, with trimmings of white marble. They
form part of "a comprehensive plan for future de-
velopment," contemplating "the erection of a num-
ber of buildings for the various purposes of the
school around a central 'Court of Honor.'" (Whea-
ton Seminary Circular, 1907.) In 1905, a power-
house and laundry of red brick was erected, from
which heat and light are distributed to all the
buildings. A new dining-hall is now in process of
building, and will probably be completed by Jan-
uary I, 1908, while it is expected that another
dormitory will be added the following year, the
present accommodations being far too limited, in
view of the number of applications for admission
to the school.

These additional buildings will make the number
belonging to the Seminary group thirteen^ in place
of the one modest schoolhouse in which Miss
Caldwell began her work. The bare grounds of
the early days have expanded into beautiful lawns,
shaded by noble elms, and leading through pleas-

[ 232 ]

^nt fields to the lovely Seminary woods. The
grounds are supplied with tennis courts, basket-
ball standards, and other equipments for out-of-
door sports, the hockey field being one of the finest
in the country. Great pains are taken to foster the
physical development of the students.

Under Dr. Cole's able management the school
has prospered abundantly, both as to numbers
and efficiency, and it is now one of the best-
equipped as well as one of the best-endowed girls'
schools in the country. Its intellectual standards
are so high that it is often said that it is more like
a college than most schools that are not colleges.
The average age of the girls is constantly increas-
ing, the advanced classes attracting more pupils
than the lower ones, in which the work is equiva-
lent to that of the high schools. This is one of the
causes that makes it possible to give the students
more freedom than would have been wise when the
number of very young girls in the school was
larger. In this respect, too, the Seminary resembles
a college.

It is gratifying to know that the crisis in the life
of Wheaton Seminary was safely passed, and that
it was placed on a secure foundation while Mrs.
Wheaton was still living to see the result of her
generosity and her sacrifices. In this one school
have been reflected all the varying phases of that

[ 233 ]

great movement for the higher education of wo-
men which is one of the finest fruits of the nine-
teenth century. Beginning in the United States,
in the estabhshment of endowed schools for girls
about the time Wheaton was founded, it may be
considered to have terminated in this country
when the best universities had thrown open their
doors to women.

In all the changes in schools for girls during
this period, Mrs. Wheaton has taken a worthy
part, standing always ready to further every
change that would develop the mind, and espe-
cially the character of the girls, at whatever cost
to herself.

This educational movement has spread into
the most conservative countries in Europe, and
is now taking such shape in Asia that, to many,
the dawn of a new day in the Orient seems at
hand. Wheaton girls who have gone as mission-
aries to Turkey, China, Persia, and India have
borne a noble part in this work.

To this great movement, from beginning to
end, Mrs. Wheaton's secluded Hfe belongs.

In China, the Hartwells, mother and daughter, both alumnae
of Wheaton, have carried on a noble missionary work for many
years. In India, Mary Sanford (Class of 1865) is the wife of
Rev. Richard Winsor, on whom King Edward conferred one
of the rarest orders in his gift for transforming one of the
famine districts of the country into a garden that supports

[ 234 ]

thousands of natives, by the introduction of new plants suited
to the conditions of the region, and she herself carried out a
shipload of supplies from America to the sufferers during one
of the great famines that occurred some years ago. Similar
stories might be told of many other missionaries. — Ed.

CHAPTER XV
EXTREME AGE

Mrs. Wheaton not only loved the Seminary girls,
but she loved them as individuals, though this was
perhaps not generally understood by the later
generations of girls; she was so upright, so dig-
nified, and so reserved that most of the girls stood
in awe of her. Some of them never spoke to her
all through their course at the Seminary till the
final Senior Tea-party. And they often went to
this party in some trepidation, fearing they might
spill something on the tablecloth, or say some-
thing silly.

Mrs. Wheaton received them very sweetly, and
they felt that. And they enjoyed the stroll through
the garden, and the beautiful flowers she always
gave them; but, probably, most of them would have
been astonished to know how tenderly and affec-
tionately she thought of each one of them. And
yet, years afterwards, when they might have
thought she had had time to forget all about them,
in some crisis of their lives, help would suddenly
come from her, effectual help, and as a complete

[236]

surprise. Then they began to understand her real
feehng.

Miss Susan Hayes Ward writes on this subject:
"My most vivid impression of [Mrs. Wheaton]
was of the tenacious memory which kept in mind
old scholars whom she had not seen for nearly
fifty years. I asked her of this or that girl, and she
would say: 'Wait a minute,' or *Let me think
a moment,' and then, after a short pause, she
would tell me one and another matter of inter-
est concerning the person in question. . . . How
steady and strong her interest was in everything and
every individual connected with the Seminary!"

Miss Frances Vose Emerson says: "I used often
to be surprised when I went back [to Norton] to
find her inquiring for girls whom I supposed she
did not know at all."

Perhaps the girls felt her love, though they were
not always conscious of it, for even the most timid
among them rfemember the June tea-party as
something exquisite and poetical.

The last of these parties was given in 1898. Mrs.
Wheaton had now become so frail that the occa-
sion was a great tax upon her. Still she was un-
willing to give up the custom. The effort proved
too much for her, however. Miss Pike, coming in
the next morning to inquire for her health, found
her so exhausted as to be really ill. Realizing Mrs.

[ 237 ]

Wheaton's age as she had never done before, Miss
Pike threw her arms around her old friend, and
exclaimed, "Oh, what shall we do when we lose
you?" Mrs. Wheaton replied softly, "If I might,
I would be your guardian angel."

In June of the following year, Mrs. Beane was
dying, and the custom of the tea-party having
been once set aside, it seemed best that it should
not be renewed. After this, the schoolgirls still
had one glimpse of Mrs. Wheaton. When they
were ready, in their graduation dresses, to go to
church on the final Anniversary Day, they went
together to take leave of Mrs. Wheaton, who still
knew all about them, and loved each one, though
they knew very little about her. She received them
with the radiant smile so characteristic of her,
spoke affectionately to them, one by one, and gave
to each beautiful flowers from her garden. The
little ceremony was like a benediction.

In the summer of 1898, Mrs. Wheaton made an
unusual change in her plans. The Spanish war
had so jarred her nerves that she dreaded to go
to the Isles of Shoals. She seemed to have an
actual fear of being near Portsmouth while the
Spanish prisoners were there. She accordingly
decided to spend the summer at Princeton, Mass.,
where she could have the beautiful views and fine
air of Mount Wachusett. The following year, she

[238]

returned to the Shoals as usual, and, except in
1903, when prevented by the grip, she continued
to spend her summers there as long as she lived.
She was making plans for another visit when her
death occurred in 1905.

Mrs. Beane was, of course, with her at Princeton.
Mrs. Emerson and her daughter Frances joined the
party there. The three old ladies who had been
dear friends and co-workers sixty years before
were once more brought intimately together in a
friendship so warm that all the years had not been
able to chill it. Miss Emerson wrote at this time:
"The years are telling on them, but it is wonder-
ful to see how well they are."

During this summer, Mrs. Wheaton was deeply
interested in Charles M. Sheldon's little book, "In
His Steps: What Would Jesus Do?" This was
the question she had always asked herself in every
undertaking. She liked the book so much that she
bought many copies of it to give away.

She returned to Norton in time for her eighty-
ninth birthday, and this she celebrated by making
a call on her old friend, Mrs. Carpenter. Mrs.
Wheaton had long ago given up making calls
herself, thinking that her age excused her from
the exertion, but Mrs. Carpenter, who lived to be
100, was at this time 98, so that it was fitting that
Mrs. Wheaton should defer to her. " It is a long

[ 239 ]

time," Mrs. Wheaton said, gleefully, "since I
have had the opportunity to visit anybody nine
years my senior I "

On June 25, 1899, Mrs. Wheaton was called
upon to part with the friend of sixty years, Mrs.
Beane, who passed away in her eighty-sixth year.
"And a great void is made by her death," Mrs.
Wheaton wrote to a friend. Mrs. Beane's illness,
originating in a fall, was long and distressing.
She was confined to her room for many months.

Immediately after Mrs. Beane's death, Mrs.
Wheaton went to the Isles of Shoals, as usual, for
the summer, accompanied by Miss Tozer. She
wrote to me from there on July 11 : "The air is
invigorating, but it fails to give me the strength
that I formerly had when here, though I hope that
will come after a time. My strength was heavily
drawn upon by the solicitude I had for Mrs. Beane,
and the many cares. She would often say: 'Pray
the dear Father to take me home.' "

In the same letter she writes: "I have the mis-
fortune of having my sight impaired, one eye al-
most blind, the other very blurry, but I have had
the use of them for a great while: I shall be ninety
years old in September. Excuse my egotism."

Miss Tozer says that in the thirteen years of her
life with Mrs. Wheaton, she never saw her break
down but once, and that was at the suggestion of

[ 240 ]

blindness. It was not the thought of Mindness
in itself that overwhelmed her, but the fear that
she might need a guardian. Happily, the danger
was averted, and, though her sight was dim, and
she could not read and write, she never became
blind.

Her hearing also began to fail, though she never
became so deaf as to make it difficult for others to
talk with her. One of the common, but exquisite
pleasures remembered by all Wheaton women is
the singing of the birds in the fine trees about the
Wheaton Mansion and in the Seminary grounds.
All the Wheaton girls "named every bird without
a gun." And Mrs. Wheaton herself knew and
loved every song. To Miss Pike, the teacher of
ornithology, she said sadly, as spring came, " I can-
not hear the birds. I shall never hear them again."
Only one who has loved the birds and lost the
power of hearing them can understand what a
silent springtime means. But the next morning,
when, as usual. Miss Pike looked in for a little
daily chat, Mrs. Wheaton met her with one of her
brightest smiles, and her first words were that the
red-winged starlings had come, and that she had
heard them singing. The peculiar reedy Quonk-
a-ree of the starling had set her dull ear vibrating,
when the notes of the robin, the bluebird, the song-
sparrow, and the meadowlark were powerless.

[241 ]

She was as happy as a child over the recovered
pleasure.

One of the common failings of old age is a
growing tendency to penuriousness. That Mrs.
Wheaton was entirely free from this tendency will
be seen from a letter of hers to one of the alumnae,
who says: "I have unfortunately lost the original
letter, but it was very short, and to the purpose,
as usual, and I can give it nearly verbatim: —

"My dear Miss , — I have just passed

my ninetieth birthday, and I feel that what I have
still to do in this world I must do quickly. I hope,
therefore, that you will do me the favor to accept
the enclosed check with my love.

"Hoping that the summer has brought strength
both to you and to your mother,

" I am affectionately your friend,

"E. B. Wheaton.

" The check was for five hundred dollars! It was
as simply and sweetly given, a friend said, as if she
had offered me a rose. Please remember that I
had not seen Mrs. Wheaton for six years, and had
never told her of the circumstances that made her
letter a real godsend."

Mrs. Wheaton used to say sometimes that
though she had no children of her own, she had
a very large family. In fact, she looked upon all

[ 242 ]

Wheaton girls as her daughters. For the sake of
these daughters, she consented, in her ninety-
fifth year, to sit for her portrait to Mr. John W.
Alexander of New York.

This portrait was exhibited in New York, and
the critics gave it the highest praise, calling it " de-
lightful," and "a veritable poem of the beauty of
old age." Mr. Alexander himself speaks, in one of
hrs letters to Mrs. Lincoln, of his gratification at
having succeeded with the portrait of so " sweet
and dear an old lady as Mrs. Wheaton."

The portrait was given to the Seminary, and at
its unveiling there was a large assembly of the
alumnae, but Mrs. Wheaton was too feeble to cross
the street from her own home to meet them. It was
characteristic of her that she begged that the por-
trait should not be given the chief place of honor
in the drawing-room. "Do nothing to make my
portrait more conspicuous than that of Father
Wheaton," she said. She looked upon Judge
Wheaton as the founder of the school, though hers
had been the suggestion that set him thinking
about it, and, as the years went by, her gifts had
far exceeded his. Of her attitude of mind. Miss
Pike writes : " Those names, * Father' and ' Mother'
Wheaton, were always spoken with a reverent
and affectionate emphasis. I think one of the
fears overshadowing her later years was that her

[ 243 ]

name should be more prominent than that of
' Father Wheaton.' "

At the beginning of the exercises at the unveil-
ing of the portrait, it was concealed by festoons
of asparagus vines and apple blossoms, the "fra-
grant covering" being at last drav^n aside by
Nancy Adams and Rachel Little, two young girls,
the daughter and granddaughter of Wheaton stu-
dents.

The following poem by President Cole was read
on this occasion: —

At last, with all its silent grace,
Amid the blossoms of the May
There breaks upon our eyes to-day

This vision of a lady's face.

You know her ? Ay, you need not tell,
A thousand daughters in the land
Have known the welcome of that hand

And felt its pressure of farewell.

What benedictions in her gaze,

What memories hover about her chair,
As, sitting in the sunset there.

She wears the crown of well-spent days.

O, little birds that come to bless

Our woodlands, round her doorway sing;
Beneath her windows, flowers of spring,

Lift up to her your loveliness.

For she, in many a heart of need,
Hath put a song in place of tears,

[ 244 ]

And scattered down these golden years
The flowers of many a kindly deed.

So, like a seed upon the ground,

There fell a thought once from her heart;
If you would know how large a part

That thought has stood for, look around!

For one who loved her planted it;

One cherished it for what might be;

She watched the seed become the Tree,
Beneath whose grateful shade we sit.

A thousand daughters did I say ?
Ah, as I see the lengthening line
Far down the future's pathway shine,

And pass, and still not pass away,

I cannot count them! Come and go
They will forever; grove and hall
And each familiar scene they all

Will cherish; and the Tree will grow.

But when in some remoter hour,
Strangers behold how great the task
Accomplished, and are moved to ask,

Whence came the impulse and the power.

Then silently, within this place
Of such beginnings, there will rise
For answer to their wondering eyes

The vision of this lady's face.

Mrs. Annes A. Lincoln and Miss Pike had been
appointed to carry out the arrangements for the
portrait. In a paper written by Mrs. Lincoln for

[245]

the Wheaton Memorial meeting, though not read
at that time, owing to her illness, she speaks of
the circumstances connected with the painting of
the portrait, and though reminiscences of earlier
days are also given in this paper, it has seemed best
to present most of it here in its original form.

MRS. ANNES A. LINCOLN'S PAPER

Mrs. Wheaton was to me, when a schoolgirl,
a great personage. The semi-seclusion in which,
owing to her husband's death, she lived during
the two years of my student life, lent a sort of
mystery to the Wheaton Mansion and grounds
which my few formal visits while teaching at the
Seminary never quite dispelled. It was after my
marriage that my real acquaintance with Mrs.
Wheaton began.

Years before that event, Mr. Wheaton had aided
a young townsman beginning business under un-
usual difficulties, and, when suffering from his
final illness, it was by Mr. Wheaton's desire that
the young man whom he had befriended was often
a watcher at his bedside, and was with him when
he breathed his last. Mrs. Wheaton never forgot
the associations of that hour, and between her and
that young man, afterward my husband, there
existed, as long as she lived, the most genuine
sympathy and regard. One of the first guests to be

[246]

entertained In our home was Mrs. Wheaton, — not
at a formal luncheon or dinner, but at a simple
company tea. Those of you who are old enough
will remember what that was.

In keeping with the simple life of which Mrs.
Wheaton was a true exponent, she, and her friend
and ours, Mrs. Beane, in acceptance of our invi-
tation, walked down to the house at the east of
Neck Woods, bringing with them a lantern to guide
them through the unlighted streets on their return.

After leaving Norton, for many years I saw Mrs.
Wheaton only at long intervals, but on those rare
occasions her greeting was always the same: "I am
very glad to see you; how is your husband .?"

It was only when I was once more officially con-
nected with the Seminary that I saw her regularly.

But it was when associated by her request with
Miss Pike in arranging for the painting of her por-
trait, and I saw her frequently, that I came to know
our dear friend intimately. I realized then, for the
first time, the yearning love which she had lavished
silently upon two generations of schoolgirls, — a
tender solicitude which we dimly comprehended
at the time, but which we, mature women, are
gathered to-day to acknowledge, together with our
appreciation of her high ideals and noble character.

The modesty that led her to avoid any conspicu-
ous position on public occasions, coupled with a

[ 247 ]

profound sense of responsibility in the administra-
tion of the estate committed to her, and which
restrained all lavish expenditure in her own behalf,
made her hesitate to devote a large sum for a por-
trait of herself. But once persuaded that it was the
desire of her " thousand daughters," that it was
right and wise, she desired no delay in the prosecu-
tion of the work.

In the sittings, it was noticeable that it was not
her own fatigue, but the comfort of the artist and
those associated in executing her commission, that
occupied her attention. This would have been
remarkable in one of her years, if it had not been
her lifelong habit to consider all about her.

I am sure it would be the wish of Mrs. Wheaton
that her final charge to the daughters of Wheaton
should be repeated on this memorial occasion.
As I sat beside her on the morning of the presenta-
tion of the portrait, taking her hand in mine, I
asked if she had any special message for her girls.
It was evident that she had been thinking of them,
and that the desire and prayer of many years were
formulated in her reply: —

"Say to the Wheaton girls, it is my wish and ;
hope that as they come in contact with the world,
it shall be the better and happier for their having
lived in it."

This aim was to her the purpose of all education,

[248]

the corner-stone of Wheaton Seminary; not a
training that would send young women out into the
world enriched by knowledge of history, science,
and literature, to be better and happier women
themselves, but to enrich and ennoble other lives,
and that each in her place should do her part in
promoting the reign of universal righteousness
and peace.

I would like to speak of Mrs. Wheaton's broad
sympathies, which embraced not only the multi-
tudes in our own land, but which reached out to the
needs of those in the uttermost parts of the earth,
as manifested in liberal and regular gifts to home
and foreign missionary boards; but I have already
passed my time limit, and must leave to others the
privilege of presenting many other distinguishing
and endearing attributes of our friend, whose mem-
ory we honor to-day.

The following sonnet, written by Mrs. Wheaton's
niece, Mrs. John Jay Smith (Mary Chapin) of
Highlands, N. C, belongs in this place: —

PORTRAIT OF MRS. WHEATON, BY ALEXANDER

Thou sittest as thy wont in quiet state,

Thine eyes down-dropping in reflective gaze;
Perchance thou dost return through winding maze
Of life's dim path to seek thy long-lost mate,
Thy friends so well-beloved, who have of late

[ 249 ]

With willing steps tried shining, unknown ways;

And dost with fondness now retrace the days
Full of fair joys vouchsafed by kindly fate.
Where'er thy thoughts may stray, from some calm bowers

Of thy soul's peace there comes a holy light,
Perhaps from memory's far lands, whose hours

Are always golden, always sweet and bright;
Or does the future lend its heavenly grace
To the soft radiance of thy tender face ?

Though Mrs. Wheaton retained to a wonderful
degree the power of making new friends in her old
age, yet the old friends who were left became dearer
and dearer. Her interest in the school was as warm
and personal as in her early days. After Miss
Stanton's resignation, it was upon Miss Pike that
she depended for the daily chat about the girls,
which was in no sense gossip, but the result of a
large human interest. Miss Pike tells us of the
beautiful smile with which she was always greeted,
Mrs. Wheaton often coming to the door to meet
her. "How do you do, and how are they all at the
Seminary ? " she always asked, with that character-
istically sincere manner that showed the questions
were not merely perfunctory. Then she would ask
about the classes. "I saw the girls going to the
Observatory last evening. What did you see
through the telescope ?" "I saw you walking with
the natural history class this morning before break-
fast. What birds did you hear?" And so on, and
so on.

[ 250 ]

MRS. WHEATON IN HER NINETY-FIFTH YEAR

From the painting by John JV. Alexander

If any girl or teacher was reported ill, the first
question was, "What can I do to help ? Is there
anything in my house that is needed ?" Her impulse
was to share everything she had with the Seminary.
In fact, the Seminary generally got the lion's share,
especially in the distribution of her superb Black
Hamburg grapes. She liked, too, to share her daily
drives with the Seminary teachers, and gave them
many happy hours in that way.

When Miss Pike went to Boston for the meetings
of the New England Wheaton Club, Mrs. Wheaton
always sent her love to all the old pupils, — " to
any of them," — and on Miss Pike's return, she
wanted to hear a detailed account of the meeting.

Her hospitality never failed. One of the alumnae
writes: "I recall being at her home, at one time,
when an aged colored woman called. It was near
the dinner-hour, and she was invited to partake.
Mrs. Wheaton remarked that no one must come
to her house near a meal-time without being invited
to stay. She said: 'Hospitality is a Christian
virtue, and I could not call myself a Christian and
do otherwise.' "

To those she loved she would say, especially
towards the last, " Come as often as you can. Come
soon." Miss Tozer writes: "As guests saw Mrs.
Wheaton, so she was all the time in the home. She
was always gracious and courteous to every one,

[251]

servant as well as guest. It seemed to me that she
grew more lovely every year. She certainly grew
old gracefully." She was cheerful. Though always
ready for conversation, she was never garrulous,
and seldom told anecdotes of her past, not because
she had lost her interest in it, but because of her
lifelong habit of putting herself aside. When talk-
ing with old friends, she recalled old days with great
animation. One of the alumnae writes: "When I
last went to see her, she was ninety-three years old,
and she told me, with the greatest interest and plea-
sure, the story of the courtship of my father and
mother, which had fallen under her eye sixty years
before." It is clear her reticence about the past
was not due to forgetfulness.

Miss Sarah Orne Jewett, a descendant of the old
Perry family of Norton, lifelong friends of the
Wheatons, in a letter to Miss Pike, speaks of the
same characteristic. She says: "I remember with
great pleasure the last time I saw Mrs. Wheaton,
when I went to call upon her with my mother, who
had not seen her for a great many years. I believe
that they had never met since my mother was
hardly more than a child, though, through my
grandfather, her old friend, Mrs. Wheaton had
known something of all his family from time to
time. It was perfectly charming to me to see her
welcome my mother, and take so sweetly the part

[ 252 ]

of an elder friend, though my mother was no longer
young (or I either!). The old relation was instantly
taken up, and I could see with what pleasure they
both returned to the old interests as if they had
parted but a month before instead of more than
fifty years. She called my mother by her childish
name, and gave back youth with the very sound of
it. They talked eagerly together, and laughed a
little at the primness of an old acquaintance whose
name they recalled, and I had a new sense of the
delight of early friendships, and the rare pleasure to
a woman of my mother's age who finds a friend so
much older still remembering her very childhood,
and still living in all the affectionate interests of the
past. Mrs. Wheaton's dignity of character and
simple courtesy to all her guests were very charming
to see. She was fixed in her old-fashioned serious
ways of life, but there was a ready and exquisite
human sympathy, a power of enjoyment, even a
touch of gayety, that the duller standards and habits
of the years of her middle life could never have quite
repressed. I could see from this interview what a
lovely part she had played in constantly remem-
bering the Wheaton Seminary girls and welcoming
them. Often and often the elder graduates must
have found her the only person who could remem-
ber their dear school days. And this growing in-
terest of her life repaid her for all her generosities,

[ 253 ]

in a great harvest of friendships that kept her from
being lonely, and made her sure to the very end
that she v^^as of use in a cheerful world."

[Miss Pike w^rites in this connection of Miss
Jewett's grandfather: "Dear old Dr. Perry ^ v^as an
admirer of Judge Wheaton, and when he came into
our family advising my dear father and mother
to send me to Wheaton Seminary, he told the story
of his affection for the family who founded the
school. Then he asked my mother if she would
not like to have him take me out to Norton, and of
course she felt that Dr. Perry's introduction would
be worth while, and accepted the offer gratefully.
It was he who took me to Mrs. Wheaton, and,
for his sake, interest on her part was at once en-
listed in me. With her own hands, she brought the
little cup of jelly which was the dearest medicine
for illness that a girl could have [alluding to a
slight indisposition when Miss Pike was a little
homesick new scholar], Mrs. Wheaton took me to
drive, and pointed out the childhood home of Dr.
Perry, and on our way home, told me the story of
travelling from the White Mountains via Exeter, of
being in church the morning after arriving in town,
and of Dr. Perry's surprise when he distributed
the bread and wine at the communion service, and
found Mr. Wheaton and herself present. As soon

' Of Exeter, N.H.
[254]

as the service was over, he ordered their trunks
taken from the hotel to his own house. Mrs. Whea-
ton dwelt with evident pleasure upon the entertain-
ment in the family."]

There was always a peculiar serenity about
Mrs. Wheaton's home. Though Mrs. Wheaton
seldom spoke of her feelings to any one, yet no one
could be with her, even for a day, without realizing
that the whole undercurrent of her existence was
religious. Religion was the absolute foundation
of her home and of her life. Everything else was
secondary. With her intimate friends she would
sometimes have a quiet "little talk," as one of
them has said, and she loved to read and repeat
hymns and chapters from the Bible with those
who were dear to her. Miss Pike mentions among
her favorite hymns, the Shepherd Psalm (The
Lord my Shepherd is) and Jerusalem the Golden,
and among the Bible selections, the 91st Psalm,
" He that dwelleth in the secret place of the Most
High."

During her last years she took special pleasure
in the reading of passages from "Leaflets for
Lent," by Mrs. Laura Tilden Greene. Some ex-
tracts from a letter of Mrs. Greene's will show the
breadth of Mrs. Wheaton's Christianity, even in
the early forties, when sectarian strife was at its
bitterest.

[ 255 ]

"As far back as the very early forties, my father,
Rev. W. P. Tilden, was the Unitarian minister in
Norton. During the four years of his ministry,
Mrs. Wheaton was so genuinely cordial and sym-
pathetic that she was regarded by our household
as a personal friend, though as you well know,
herself a zealous Congregationalist.

" My father and mother sustained their first
great sorrow in the loss of a rarely beautiful boy.
This filled my father with power to comfort others'
sorrows, and words then spoken at a similar be-
reavement were kept close in Mrs. Wheaton's heart
for fifty years, and repeated to me from her own
lips in gently trembling accents.

" ' He who formed the parent heart knows its own
sorrow when bereaved.' You may imagine how
it thrilled me to hear these words out of the silence
of fifty years, — for, in the early nineties, I was a
guest at her house while replacing a little monu-
ment that was originally the gift of a sympathetic
people. She spoke of our mother as a ' natural
Christian,' — did not her religion run deep and
broad and strong as she spoke thus of those who
held another faith than her own ?"

Mrs. Wheaton much enjoyed the visit that it
was the custom of Dr. Cole to pay to her every
Sunday after church. When she was no longer
able to go to church herself, the prayer Dr. Cole

[256]

offered at each of these visits gave her something
of the pleasure of the more public service.

Dr. Cole says that on these occasions, as on all
others, her thoughtfulness for others W3.s marked,
that neither w^eakness nor illness nor age ever caused
her to forget to inquire for the v^elfare of all w^ho
needed her interest.

Her religion manifested itself in the spirit of the
two great commandments, in love to God, and
in love to her fellov^-beings. It was not possible
for her to separate the two.

Every one who knew Mrs. Wheaton, whether
of the same creed or not, felt that hers was a life
consecrated from the beginning, and lived in the
same spirit unwaveringly to the end. Perhaps it
was as much her reverence for sacred things as her
great reserve of nature, that kept her from speak-
ing freely of what was in her heart. But no one
evermore fully "put" her" creed" into her "deed"
than she did. She lived her religion.

CHAPTER XVI

A LEAF FROM THE EXPERIENCE OF A
SEMINARY TRUSTEE

BY REV. ALBERT HALE PLUMB, D. D.

Elected 1870. Chosen President of the Board 18S5.

In the beautiful poem by President Cole, read at
the unveiling of that masterpiece of the painter's
art, the portrait of Mrs. Wheaton in her ninety-
fifth year, by Mr. John W. Alexander of New
York, the author sends our thoughts onward, as
successive generations of pupils at the Seminary
shall enjoy and exalt its ample provisions for
their need. His words are: —

But when, in some remoter hour,

Strangers behold how great the task
AccompHshed, and are moved to ask

Whence came the impulse and the power,

Then silently, within this place

Of such beginnings, there will rise
For answer to their wondering eyes

The vision of this lady's face.

Yes, and the vision will be a revelation. No one,
whether pupil or parent, journeying hither and for
the first time looking upon the form and features
thus delineated, shall fail to see, even in that

[258]

portraiture of advanced age, the lines of kindly
thought, of conscious power, of serenity and dig-
nity, the marks of true worth. Yet the sight will
awaken a desire to know more. What was this
woman in the more active years of her long and
useful life ? Hence, with natural eagerness, many
will turn to this volume in which loving hearts and
skilful hands have striven to emulate those mar-
vellous productions of modern art, the moving
pictures, in which life is seen in actual motion, and
the expressive postures and the speaking gestures,
and even the changing play of the features,
are clear. So competent have these word-painters
proved, that a true "living picture" has been pro-
duced, and all are able to look upon this "elect
lady" as she moves onward through the successive
stages of her remarkable career.

They have opened for us the doors of her well-
ordered home, and have shown us the hostess dis-
pensing a gracious hospitality. They have with-
drawn the veil from her intimacies with her closest
friends, her kindred, her companions, inmates often
of her household, teachers at Wheaton Seminary,
or at other schools, with whom an intimacy of
many years had ripened into a confidential friend-
ship, her tried and true associates in establishing
and developing the institution which bears her
name.

[ 259 ]

They have permitted us to follow her as, in
company with certain valued friends, she has
sought refreshment, during the heats of summer,
in the mountains, or on the shores of the sea, es-
pecially at her favorite resort in mid-ocean, the
Isles of Shoals, where the little company found
abundant opportunities for restful communion
with nature, and gained strength for coming days
of care.

It has, however, been desired that still another
aspect of Mrs. Wheaton's character be presented:
How did she appear in her relations with the
trustees ^ Having given into their care the man-
agement of this sacred trust, how did she bear her-
self towards them in all the shifting changes which
every institution of progressive aims must pass
through in the long course of years .?

My first knowledge of Mrs. Wheaton and the
Seminary came to me while I was a student in
Brown University, in the early fifties, from the
frequent and enthusiastic tributes paid to them by
a zealous friend, a Christian merchant of Provi-
dence, Mr. William J. King, from 1848 to 1885
an active and influential member of the Board
of Trustees. I was occasionally honored by an
invitation to take his place in giving the pupils
an address at their religious meetings, where his
quaint and vigorous speech, enlivened by touches

[ 260 ]

of humor, but always enlightening and impressive,
was greatly prized.

Later, I saw how Mrs. Wheaton was revered by
other trustees of that day. Rev, Henry B. Hooker,
D. D., Rev. Jacob Ide, and Rev. Dr. Mortimer
Blake, for some time the President of the Board.
Rev. Alfred Emerson, a trustee from 1873 to 1893,
and treasurer from 1881 to 1892, was specially
active in carrying out the munificent plans of
Mrs. Wheaton in the various improvements during
those years. An inspiration came to this worthy
man from the fact that in earlier times, when a
strange prejudice existed against advanced acad-
emies for girls, his father, Rev. Joseph Emerson
of Beverly, w^as active in establishing and main-
taining schools for the higher education of young
women,

A like influence has sensibly deepened my own
interest in Wheaton Seminary, inasmuch as my
mother, Caroline Robbins Hale, encountered the
same prejudice in her youth, both as a pupil in
one of the oldest New England seminaries, and as
Principal of Cortland Academy for young ladies
in Homer, N, Y,

As many can testify from personal observation,
Mrs, Wheaton was possessed of keen insight and
sound judgment in financial matters, and never

[ 26- ]

embarrassed the trustees by any visionary or other
questionable plans for the administration of Sem-
inary affairs. In all the years of my membership
on the Board, I never knew^ of a single instance in
which she sought to obtrude her opinions in oppo-
sition to theirs. She fully recognized the respon-
sibilities and rights of their office, and never showed
any disposition to override their action, or to set
aside their conclusions.

I doubt not the esteemed treasurer of the Board,
Mr. Edwin Barrows, whose service began in 1865,
and who enjoyed an early acquaintance with the
Wheaton family, and Judge Fox, Chairman of the
Finance Committee, and, also, the President of
the Seminary, Rev. Dr. Cole, — all of whom have
naturally been most frequently in consultation
with Mrs. Wheaton, — would bear the same tes-
timony to her uniformly respectful deference to
their judgment. Indeed, so manifest was her grate-
ful appreciation of the labors of love which the
trustees were continually putting forth, some of
them with rare devotion, to safeguard the valuable
foundations here laid, and to erect upon them a
stately and an enduring structure, a monument
to the wisdom and beneficence of her honored
husband and of his revered father, and so frank
and courteous were the frequent conferences be-
tween Mrs. Wheaton and the Board, in consul-

[ 262 ]

tation, also, with certain of the most experienced
and consecrated members of the Faculty, that I
can recall no instance of any serious conflict of
opinion which did not yield to the truly Christian
spirit which always animated this able and con-
scientious woman.

And this naturally leads to the statement of
one further fact, a fact which alone induced me to
yield to repeated requests and furnish a contri-
bution to this volume, a volume prepared as a lov-
ing tribiile to the worth of our benefactress. It
was the religious character of the school which
lay nearest to the heart of this wise and far-seeing
friend. She was keenly alive, indeed, to the neces-
sity of its ministering to a high intellectual culture.
She deeply appreciated the necessity of recognizing
the claims of a broadening arena of usefulness for
the educated young women of our time, adapting
them to the new exigencies of modern life as re-
lated to woman's work. She was ambitious that
here young women should attain a symmetrical
and vigorous physical development, fitting them
for the arduous and exacting duties of the exalted
positions of usefulness many of them would be
called to fill. She was conscious, too, of the newer
comprehension of late of the ethical relations the
cultivated woman is to sustain in the home, in
society, and in connection with social reform in

[ 263 ]

consequence of the growing altruism and humani-
tarianism which are the glory of our age, and in
which woman has an increasing share.

And yet, there was one thing whose importance
she judged overtopped all these aims, one object
which outranked everything else, one purpose
never to be forgotten, but always to control in
every department of administration in the entire
school life: Mrs. Wheaton's supreme desire was
that this institution should continue to be as it was
originally designed to be, from deepest founda-
tion to topmost pinnacle, a Christian school, per-
vaded by the spirit of Christ, and continually im-
buing youthful aspirations and purposes, thoughts,
words, deeds, with a glad and grateful devotion to
the most precious of all friends, the World's Re-
deemer, "the Son of God manifested to destroy
the works of the devil." That this work might go
on and on, this purpose be more and more ful-
filled, was her chief solicitude, and her brightest
hope for the future of the school.

During the twenty-six years of the principalship
of the vigorous Mrs. Metcalf, Mrs. Wheaton was
in ardent sympathy with the spirit and methods
of that strong religious personality. In those days,
as more or less ever since, the young ladies enjoyed
the privilege of feeling the impress of many per-
sons of remarkable religious experience and power

[ 264 ]

of service, who were invited to visit the school and
address the students, — returned missionaries,
Christian workers, lay and clerical, men and wo-
men, some of whom are still remembered for their
able and convincing exhibitions of the reasonable-
ness of the religious life. The ruling thoughts of
those personal friends of the Principal made the
fact evident to the listeners that no mere system
of ethics is a sufficient foundation for character,
inasmuch as morality is incomplete without re-
ligion. There can be no worthy character that
leaves out of view the personal relations of the soul
to God. It is impossible to perform aright our
duty to our fellow-men unless they are first of all
regarded in our mutual relations to our Heavenly
Father and to His will concerning us. And har-
mony of feeling with God is attainable by us all.

Not to mention any of those teachers who in
recent years have faithfully striven to fulfil the
high duty of building up a true Christian character
in the school, there were some instructors whose
marked saintliness of life and immeasurable in-
fluence for good, as gratefully acknowledged by
many of our widely scattered graduates, clearly
reflected the earnestly evangelical spirit of Mrs.
Wheaton, with whom they were in constant fellow-
ship of closest intimacy. I well remember her

[ 265 ]

warm sympathy with Miss Carter and Miss Briggs,
and others I could name, in their effective rehgious
zeal. And I know many of the graduates, in their
memory of teachers and visitors, to this day al-
ways associate with the most powerful forces for
good in those formative days of their youth, the
personal character of the benignant lady who, not
less in these active years than in her great age, was
looked upon by all with sincere veneration as well
as with gratitude and love.

I recall a memorable afternoon spent at the
Seminary by the late Bishop Brooks, the result
of which gave Mrs. Wheaton extreme and lasting
satisfaction. It chanced that Lucy Larcom was
also our guest that day. As we sat with a group of
the teachers around the open fire in the drawing-
room, the conversation turned upon the subject of
penmanship, in view of my praise of the clear and
open specimen shown in a recent letter from the
Bishop. "I hold it immoral to write poorly," he
said. "What right has any one to impose upon his
correspondent the irksome task of deciphering an
illegible scrawl?" Well, the great preacher had
the gift of writing plainly upon souls, for his ser-
mon that day on the Saviour's words, "I am the
way, and the truth, and the life," fixed indelibly
the best of all lessons on the heart of one fair
maiden, a pupil from another state, who had not

[ 266 ]

been reared in the Evangelical faith, and I had the
pleasure of writing to the good man, in as fair a
hand as I could command, a message which, even
if blindly written, he would have been glad to
decipher, that another immortal soul had passed
from death to life. That pupil has for many years
occupied an influential position in life, and in her
elegant home, and in society, and as a promi-
nent member of a club of Wheaton Alumnae, has
proved again, "How great a matter a little fire
kindleth."

Other instances of the wide influence for good
of the Wheaton girls in various walks of life, and
in home or foreign missionary fields, when related
to our beloved patroness, lightened her features
with a smile of thankfulness and inefi^able peace.

One graduate, some of whose children are now
themselves at the head of happy households, and
some of them giving the impress of their editorial
thought to daily newspapers in important cities,
was once requested by the congregation of her hus-
band, during his temporary illness, to take his
place in their pulpit, preaching his sermons or
giving her own, which she did for several months,
to the satisfaction of all concerned. No wonder the

husband of such a helpmate remarked, " is

of the salt of the earth, and fine salt at that."

Sunday-school children are sometimes asked

[ 267 ]

"Who is the happiest man in the Bible?" They
know who is the strongest man, the meekest, the
oldest. Who can doubt that this distinction of
superior happiness belongs to the beloved disciple
who reclined on the Saviour's bosom at the last
feast ? And yet he says : " I have no greater joy
than to hear that my children walk in the truth."
Mrs. Wheaton, having no children, looked upon all
the Wheaton girls as her very own, and her joy in
their character and success was a valued solace to
her in the infirmities of her declining years.

There is a single further consideration which it
seems natural to name in this connection. The
kind of service rendered by the trustees of such a
school, or by those who serve other public interests,
which lie outside the claims of their personal busi-
ness or profession, though gratuitously given, is
never unpaid. The duties of such management
are sometimes exacting and laborious, calling for
protracted attention and the best exercise of one's
powers. But such gifts always return upon their
givers, awakening broader sympathies, exalting
their entire nature, and also affording an unalloyed
satisfaction in the useful results thus unselfishly
attained.

Mrs. Wheaton seemed impelled to improve
every suitable opportunity to express her sincere

[ 268 ]

thankfulness to the trustees, her sense of the large
indebtedness of the Seminary to the integrity, the
fideUty, and the assiduity with which they sought
to fulfil their trust. But they might well respond:
" We are already having our abundant reward in
the privilege of being continually associated in these
responsibilities, and in occasional and always de-
lightful intercourse, with one who represents so
fine a type of Christian womanhood."

Especially in all the successive revelations of the
ever widening influence of this institution in pro-
moting a high Christian culture in future years,
and in all coming triumphs in worthy endeavor
of those who shall receive their education here,
the trustees can say: "If in any degree our efforts
have aided in securing these happy results, and
thus fulfilling the high purposes of those who
founded and endowed the school, 'We are sharers
in this their joy.'"

CHAPTER XVII

AT EVENING TIME THERE SHALL BE LIGHT

In Mrs. Wheaton's last letter to Miss Pike, urging
her to visit her soon, she says: "I wish you could
take an early train Saturday morning and get here
at 10 o'clock, to ride with me after my pair of new
black horses. I should love to have you. Can't you ?
And plan to spend the Sabbath with us."

How young and fresh this sounds! It was dic-
tated on May ii, 1905, and was the last letter ever
dictated by Mrs. Wheaton. On Saturday, May 20,
she took her last daily drive, for when Miss Tozer
returned from Boston, whither she had been, at
Mrs. Wheaton's desire, for the annual meeting of
the New England Wheaton Club, she found that
Mrs. Wheaton had been coughing all the afternoon,
and Dr. Arthur Round, the family physician, was
called in. Mrs. Wheaton met him with a smile,
saying there was no real need of his coming, as she
was not ill. He thought her symptoms those of the
grip, a disease of which she had suffered several
attacks in her later years. She was, however, able
to take tea with the family, and she was interested

[ 270 ]

in hearing all Miss Tozer had to tell her of the
Club meeting.

On Sunday morning she came downstairs as
usual, but the effort was too much for her, and she
soon returned to her own room, which she never
again left. The cough no longer troubled her; she
lay calmly in bed without suffering. She was simply
tired, she said. As day by day passed quietly by,
she was even able to attend to necessary business.

She was not only free from pain, but happy.
Miss Tozer writes : " During those last two weeks of
her life, she was so sweet and lovely all the time,
quietly slipping away from us. The last verse of
the hymn she loved so well ('My Faith looks up to
Thee') was a prayer which she loved to repeat.

"When ends life's transient dream,
When death's cold, sullen stream

Shall o'er me roll,
Blest Saviour! then, in love,
Fear and distrust remove,
Oh, bear me safe above,

A ransomed soul!

" She was naturally so timid, and had such a
dread of the final change, — physical fear of the
great and final change. It was beautiful to see
how, at last, all fear and distrust were removed, and
she was 'borne above, a ransomed soul.' "

On the morning of Wednesday, May 31, she
seemed to be sinking^ fast, and a message was sent

[ 271 ]

to her pastor, Rev. Mr. RatclifFe, over the telephone
wires connecting her house with the parsonage.
Mr. RatcHfFe was away at the moment, but Mrs.
Ratcliffe at once responded to the message, and
remained with Mrs. Wheaton to the end.

Mrs. Wheaton had already rallied. Mrs. Rat-
cliffe writes: "She received me as if I had returned
from a long journey, asking me about my husband,
if he were not coming to see her, and about our
girls. . . . Her thoughtfulness for others never failed
even during those last hours. In a short time her
pastor came in, and, after greeting him in her bright
way and chatting for a few minutes, she asked him
if he would not offer prayer. He knelt by her bed-
side, and thinking he might weary her, offered a
short prayer. She thanked him with a rather dis-
appointed sigh. 'That was very short; I wanted a
long one.' So once more he knelt by her side, and
prayed again, which seemed to satisfy her.

" The brightness gradually faded, and during the
afternoon and early evening she rested quietly,
now and then waking to take nourishment, or to
inquire for some relative or friend. When we asked
her how she felt, she would say, 'I feel la-a-zy;'
or if we asked if she were comfortable, *I am just
tired.'

" During the evening she repeated some of her
favorite passages from The Word, saying the one

[ 272 ]

hundred and thirty-seventh psalm with Miss Tozer.
Then she asked me if I would not repeat the verses
she so loved, the beautiful hymn, Ray Palmer's —

" My faith looks up to Thee,
Thou Lamb of Calvary,

Saviour divine:
Now hear me while I pray.
Take all my guilt away,
O let me from this day

Be wholly Thine.

She repeated the last line several times, — *Be
wholly Thine,' and, during the last hours, we heard
her say 'wholly Thine, wholly Thine.' At about
nine o'clock, the usual time of retiring, she said,
*I am sleepy. Lucy, put out the lights and light
my "little beauty"' (the new night-lamp). When
this had been done, she repeated her childhood's
prayer: —

" Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray Thee, Lord, my soul to keep,
If I should die before I wake,
I pray Thee, Lord, my soul to take.

The morning brought no great change. She
seemed comfortable, only weaker. She referred once
to looking through her * lace curtain ' (the new green
leaves) to see the girls across the street. We passed
the second night watching, listening eagerly for
every precious word from her lips. She repeated
with her nephew, Mr. Samuel Chapin, the beauti-

[ 273 ]

ful words from St. John's Gospel, *In my Father's
house are many mansions. I go to prepare a place
for you, that where I am, there ye may be also.' "

She looked up to Miss Tozer and said, "Dear
Lucy, you have been such a comfort to me." Miss
Tozer says she always expressed gratitude for
what was done for her.

As day began to dawn, some one thought Mrs.
Wheaton said, "It is growing dark." Her nephew
bent over her and said, " It is n't dark, is it. Auntie ? "
"No! No!" she answered, with a beaming smile.
Then Miss Pike, the Wheaton teacher most dear
to her, asked if she had any message of love for
the Wheaton girls. "Oh, yes!" she answered, her
face becoming more and more radiant. And this
was her last word.

Mrs. Ratcliffe writes: "In a little while, just as
the sun was flooding the world with June glory,
the silver cord was loosed, the golden bowl was
broken, and a great spirit entered into eternal
light."

This was on Friday, June 2, 1905. On Monday,
June 5, the last services were held for her in the
church she had so loved, her own gift to the village.
On that day, the little town was full of strangers
who were not strangers, for they were the Wheaton
girls who had come back, after ten, twenty —
some of them after fifty — years, to the spot where

[ 274 ]

their early lives had been shaped, to do honor to
the woman to whose generosity they felt they owed
much that had made those lives best worth living.

It was a perfect June day, and, as they moved
slowly down the still, elm-shaded street from Mrs.
Wheaton's home to the church, the fragrance of
the buttercups in the meadows below the Seminary
recalled to many a gray-haired woman the peace
and sweetness of the Sunday walk of her girlhood,
when she may, perhaps, have watched the dignified
figures of Mr. and Mrs. Wheaton going them-
selves to church as punctually and faithfully as the
girls were required to do.

The long procession of Seminary girls, dressed
in white and with uncovered heads, paused on
the green before the church, and, forming in two
lines, awaited the coming of the earthly form of
their old friend; and, as the casket was borne
through their ranks into the church, they strewed
flowers and sweet grasses before it. The Alumnae
had filled the church with flowers, the choicest
and most beautiful that could be found, remember-
ing Mrs. Wheaton's lifelong love of flowers, and
the treasures from her own garden she had given
them so generously in years long past.

The little church was crowded not only with
the Seminary teachers and girls, with the Alumnae,
and other friends from a distance, but with the

[ 275 ]

townspeople, to whom Mrs. Wheaton had always
been a loyal friend.

The service was simple and beautiful. The
pastor of the church told briefly the story all were
longing to hear of the last happy hours of their old
friend. Then Rev. Dr. Cole, President of the
Seminary, spoke as follows : —

"Some live long, but not well; some live well,
but not long; and some there are who live both long
and well. In this last-named class belongs the dear
friend whose loss we mourn.

" Born in the memorable year which gave birth
to Tennyson and Gladstone and Darwin and
Mendelssohn and Chopin and Abraham Lincoln
and Oliver Wendell Holmes, she saw the stirring
events and the mighty changes of practically the
whole nineteenth century pass before her eyes.
Every man, woman, or child who was alive in
Norton when she came here as a bride, in 1829,
has, I am told, with but a single exception, pre-
ceded her to the Silent Land.

" But her crowning distinction was not length of
days; it was nobility of character. She has been a
quiet and pervasive influence through all the com-
munity. It has been felt with especial force in the
school that was so dear to her heart.

"We emphasize to-day, not what she did, — great
and varied as her benefactions were, — we em-

[276]

phasize what she was. The most potent and last-
ing influence in all this world is the influence of a
good life. Kindliness of heart, dignity and gracious-
ness of manner, unfailing courtesy, a thoughtful-
ness that never forgot these, with a simplicity of
life, and a singular hospitality for new ideas, are
among the things that every one who knew Mrs.
Wheaton will associate with her name. She was
the friend of every good word and work in Semi-
nary, or church, or town. She feared nothing so
much as that she might not do her full duty. She
administered her earthly possessions as a sacred
trust, and was ever mindful of the time when she
should render her account. The voice she longed
to hear, and has already heard, was that of the
Master, saying: 'Well done, good and faithful ser-
vant; enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.'

"In the room in which she died, there hangs a
motto on which her eyes have often looked. The
words of the motto are these: 'At evening time
there shall be light.' When my acquaintance with
her began, — and it began much later than in the
case of many of you, — it was already in the even-
ing of her life. But no shadows were gathering.
The evening was like the day. She walked in the
light, she lived the life of the spirit. Of unusual
sagacity and judgment in practical aflPairs, she kept
her affections on things above. She cherished the

[ '^n ]

imperishable ideal of the Christian faith. Hers, in
no ordinary degree, was the comforting sense of the
presence of God.

"And now she is gone. Let the tears fall, not
for her, but for ourselves. For her, therg is nothing
to regret. We sorrow that we shall see her face no
more. But she has left us a precious legacy, — the
memory of an honored and beautiful life. And we
shall best express our gratitude, not by flowers, or
tears, or eulogies, but by following her example.
The message of her life to this community — to
town, to church and school, and to us all — is this:
'Love one another, help one another, speak kindly
one of another, and remember that the true life is
the life that is hid with Christ in God.'"

There was beautiful music, — two hymns Mrs.
Wheaton loved, "Rock of Ages" and "Abide
with me," sung softly and clearly by a single per-
fect voice, and then the whole congregation joined
in the one Mrs. Wheaton had asked for so often
during her illness, "My faith looks up to Thee."

Though the church was full of those who sin-
cerely loved Mrs. Wheaton, there were not many
tears. It seemed to be an hour for gratitude rather
than for grief; all felt that a beautiful life had been
completely lived, filled to the brim to the very last
moment with good deeds and loving thoughts, that
the time had come when the cares of this world,

[278]

and the burdens of age could rightfully be laid
down, and the thoughts of all turned naturally to
the joy of the new life, on which their friend had
entered. There seemed to be an atmosphere of
aspiration rather than of grief, an aspiration ex-
pressed by the words Mrs. Wheaton had repeated
so often: —

"O let me from this day
Be wholly Thine."

Again the schoolgirls formed in long lines on the
green. As the June sunshine touched their bright
hair, they were like some picture of Fra Angelico's
whose angels crowned with halos are watching the
entrance of some saint into glory.

Mrs. Wheaton lies buried, with the other mem-
bers of the Wheaton family, in what is called the
Common Cemetery in Norton. On her stone is
inscribed, —

"Helper of the poor, sympathizer with the sorrowing, friend
of humanity, servant of God."

" She was gracious in all her ways, and the world is better for
her having lived in it."

CHAPTER XVIII

MEMORIAL MEETING OF THE NEW ENGLAND
WHEATON CLUB

On January 13, 1906, the New England Wheaton
Club held a memorial meeting in honor of Mrs.
Wheaton at the Vendome, in Boston, which was
attended by hundreds of the old pupils of the Sem-
inary. It was appropriate that this meeting should
be conducted by Miss Pike.

Mrs. Anna Spear Stebbins (Class of '70), Presi-
dent of the Club, spoke a few introductory words,
referring to the unique position of Wheaton Sem-
inary, which had been founded at the suggestion of
a young woman who had lived seventy years to
watch over it and cherish it.

Then the following program was presented : —

Music.

I
Papers by

a. Mrs. Elizabeth Cate Barrows.

b. Miss Mary E. Blair.

c. Sonnet by Mrs. Kate Upson Clark.

d. Mrs. Mary Bailey Lincoln.

(All read by Mrs. Lincoln.)

II

Letter from Miss Ellen M. Haskell.
(Read by Mrs. May Randlett Tufts.)

[ 280 ]

Ill

Paper by Miss A. Ellen Stanton, who also read a paper
written by Mrs. Wheaton's own hand.

IV

Paper by Mrs. Jeannie Woodbury Lincoln.
(Omitted on account of Mrs. Lincoln's illness.)

V

Letter from Miss Frances Vose Emerson.
(Read by Mrs. Emma Bird Murdock.)

VI

Resolutions from the Worcester Wheaton Club.
(Presented by Mrs. Ellen Grout Gould-Smith.)

VII

Letter from Miss Mary E. Woolley.
(Read by Mrs. Eloise McNeill Bird.)

VIII

Paper by Miss Mabel H. Perry.

IX

Letter from Miss Julia Osgood.

X

A few words from Mrs. Estelle Hatch Merrill.

XI

A few words from Miss Harriet E. Paine.

XII

Messages from Miss Susan Hayes Ward.

XIII

Resolutions, presented by Miss Clara M. Pike, and adopted
by the Assembly.

[28.]

Extracts from most of these papers have already
been introduced in their natural place in the pre-
ceding narrative. From others of more general
scope, some extracts are given below.

Miss Ellen M. Haskell, Principal of Wheaton
Seminary, 1876-1879, says: "The word which
comes to my mind most persistently when I think
of [Mrs. Wheaton] is friendliness. You felt this in
the pressure of her hand when she met you, in the
quiet *I am glad to see you' of her greeting, in all
the arrangements for your comfort while you were
her guest. For the time being, you were at the cen-
tral point of her interest. Yet Mrs. Wheaton had
not an emotional temperament. Her greeting was
never effusive, nor emphatic. Her hospitality was
not lavish or ostentatious, there was no excess of
preparation, her interest in you was not obtrusive;
but you felt an unvarying warmth in her words,
you saw that there had been thoughtful provision
for your comfort, and that she welcomed any men-
tion of personal matters that you chose to make.
This warm current of feeling was broad and deep,
and extended much beyond the circle of those she
called her friends. She was quick to discern esti-
mable qualities, and to sympathize with all forms
of suffering, yet was free from sentimentality. She
had the rare and precious gift of sane and abound-
ing friendliness."

[282]

Miss Mary E. Woolley, of the Class of 1884, and
long a teacher at the Seminary, now President of
Mt. Holyoke College, writes: —

"As a student I anticipated the Senior tea [at
Mrs. Wheaton's] as one of the chief events of the
course, and remember with the greatest distinct-
ness how dainty and delightful it was, from the
time we were received in the drawing-room to the
walk in the garden after supper.

"During my five years as instructor I altogether
lost my awe of Mrs. Wheaton, and gained a deep
affection for her, which makes the evenings in her
sitting-room a very happy memory. I think that
I have never visited the Seminary since that time
without seeing her, and every call made me ap-
preciate her more and love her better. The few
times I saw her after coming to Mount Holyoke,
she filled with stories of Mary Lyon and her visits
to Wheaton, making those days seem very real and
full of life. Her friendship was an honor and an
inspiration, and I shall always be glad that I may
claim it as one of Wheaton's gifts to her daughters.
No words in her praise can be too strong. She was
a Christian gentlewoman of executive ability and
courtly manners, with a keen interest in the gen-
eral welfare and warm affection for the individual.
I rejoice in every effort to make her memory live
among the girls now at the Seminary."

Sonnet by Mrs. Kate Upson Clark (Class of
1869. Founder and President of the New York
Wheaton Club, and Trustee of the Seminary).

ELIZA B. WHEATON
In Memoriam

Down through the ages, though vast empires fell;
Though ruin overtook great schools and schemes, —
The teachers' porches and the poets' dreams,

And palaces of kings; one fairy spell

Lay ever on the world: ah, who can tell

The way it grew! First, faint as dawning beams
Of great suns rising; then, as gleams

The radiant universal light, to quell

All shadows; thus the spell waxed of God's love.
Strongest it glowed in that immortal band
For Jesus' sake who braved the dreadful deep.

The flower of that strong plant; her texture wove
Of love, high thought and purity; doth stand
Her image, for our grateful souls to keep.

Miss Julia Osgood, long a lecturer on Art in the
Seminary where she had once been a pupil, writes:

"I have in my mind a picture of our noble friend
that reaches beyond Mr. Alexander's canvas; one
that many who are gathered here to-day share with
me, and so I venture to recall it, hoping that like
the perfume of a flower of long ago, it will arouse
emotions and affections that may have been dor-
mant, but are none the less vital.

"There rises before me a woman of powerful
frame, of clear mental vision, of great dignity and

[284]

simplicity of manner. Her surroundings embodied
her tastes and aims. Her house was a generously
proportioned and comely building of the last cen-
tury, where every modern equipment found its
place; where ostentation was unknown; where
exquisite order and cleanliness prevailed without
apparent effort, — as if they were inevitable con-
sequences of her presence. No one could pass a
day under her roof without noting that her house-
hold attendants were individuals of character and
special fitness for their position, while the com-
panions nearest her person gave to her, and re-
ceived from her, the tenderest affection. This
home, the interior home, had for its setting a charm-
ing old-fashioned garden; it was shaded by fine
elms, and its windows looked out on the lawns and
buildings of the Seminary, which its mistress con-
stantly planned and prayed for. The path leading
to her door was bordered with box; its perfume
is here now, just as we all used to breathe it in,
alike on summer days or when the landscape was
wrapped in snow, as we stood for a moment on her
piazza waiting for admission.

"Every year that she lived we grew nearer to her,
and she grew dearer to us. We learned something
of her private methods of work, of her sense of
stewardship in regard to the fortune she so faith-
fully dispensed.

[285]

" Her home became a hallowed spot, a place of
pilgrimage, to which it was an honor to be admitted,
for there was centred the wisdom gathered in
nearly a century of experience, the fidelity that had
ripened during many decades of life, and the love
that had been maturing during nearly a hundred
years.

" Let us who constitute the Alumnae, and who
stand, therefore, in the place of her children, keep
green the memory of this noble woman to whom
we owe so many blessings, and pass on to the com-
ing generation the beloved name of
"Eliza B. Wheaton."

The program was closed by the informal reso-
lutions presented by Miss Pike.

RESOLUTIONS

The New England Wheaton Seminary Club
desires to place on record its sense of the loss which
its members have sustained in the death of Mrs.
Eliza B. Wheaton, their beloved patron and
friend.

The Club must long lament the loss of an intel-
ligence so rare, an experience so rich, and a per-
sonal influence so strong as hers.

Those who came into intimate relations with her
were attracted by the simplicity of her nature, held

' [ 286 ]

by her tender and abounding sympathy, enHght-
ened by the wisdom of her unerring judgment, in-
spired by her spirit of self-effacing service, and
elevated by the nobility of her Christian character.

That "Hfe is a great and noble calling, a lofty
and an exalted destiny," is a truth that was force-
fully demonstrated by her conscientious attitude
towards its trusts and responsibilities.

Mrs. Wheaton's place can never be filled, but
the Association rejoices in its heritage of sacred
memories and inspirations left by her to the in-
stitution which she loved and fostered during her
long life.

Her uplifting faith and unfaltering hope con-
quered age, and were triumphant even in death.
And her glorious example remains in memory, a
vital encouragement to youth, and a steady light
in the path of advancing years.

"He who gave life gave what seems death to man,
But 't is a death that gives more life to life,
God with one hand withdraws the life of earth,
But with the other gives the life of heaven."

Mrs. Stebbins then said one final word, that we
must all feel it good to remember: "We have had
an example; our part is to follow that example."

THE END

The R. W.B.Jackson

Library

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